There are times I’ve deleted whole conversations, in an attempt to forget the hurt they’ve caused.
Imposed a block on social media, to hide away from emotions exposed.
Laidback and did nothing, to try to forget.
Permeated through bedsheets, fear had me losing sleep.
Inactive is my status, so you experience no notion of my turmoil.
You created this.
You caused this.
You impressed this.
You developed this.
You.
You strangled my words with this.
I lay still as a baby lamb 4 hours after being slaughtered.
Fuck how I feel – it’s all apart of your culture.
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