Find me in the back of closets, a wool sweater I used to wear to stop my shaking hands.
Find me on bathroom sinks, the fake marble littered in dye stains that looked a bit too much like the bruises we both got too used to.
Find me in dishwashers, shattered glass, dented pans anything you could get your tainted hands on.
Find me behind doors, a small pair of mismatched socks thrown haphazardly after a long day of tip-toeing around you.
Find me in grocery stores. In malls. In banks. Find me in every crying child, in every screaming baby, in every tired mother.
Find me on the top shelf in every library . Behind ever first page, turn me carefully, I'm dusted over, torn, fragile.
Find me in funerals. Every black dressed, teary-eyed mistress, kneeling over coffins.
Find me long after I'm gone. Remember who I was and how you destoryed me, how you made my hands shake.
How you left bruises on my marble skin.
How you shattered me.
How you threw me asid haphazardly, left me crawling back, accepted every unearned apology..
How you left me. Crying. Screaming. Tired.
Remember the way you set me on the top shelf, my bones rusting my skin tearing, dusting over. Being forgotten.
I hope everytime you leave your house you see me. You find me. You remember me, the way you killed me, left me kneeled over my own coffin. Left me ready-eyed, blacked dressed, weeping and alone.
I hope you find this poem.
And I hope it kills you.