This is how I haunt you;
I become an ever-living ghost of the girl you broke in half.
You will find traces of me in every corner of your house --
bobby pins strewn across your carpeted floor,
strawberry soap in the corner of your shower.
A hair-tie on the bedside table,
silky underwear hiding under the bed.
You will find black strands of hair across your pillowcases,
my sweat against the sheets.
The kitchen will remind you of that time you pushed me against the sink,
bent me in half, dress fallen at my feet.
The upstairs bathroom --
mirror smudged from my naked skin,
hard against the cold glass.
The lounge room --
that couch we reserved for lazy weekends,
our bodies moving slowly against the flickering TV light.
The hallway --
you pushed me up against, hand around my throat.
Atop the cupboard in your walk-in wardrobe.
My body has touched every inch of your house,
my perfume clinging to every shirt you own/
This is your sentence for breaking me down.
And even after you scrub the lipstick marks from your glasses,
throw my photos in the trash,
you won't ever forget how I made you scream out,
no longer human,
our bodies entwined over every last piece of furniture in your goddamn house.
I become an ever-living ghost of the girl you broke in half.
You will find traces of me in every corner of your house --
bobby pins strewn across your carpeted floor,
strawberry soap in the corner of your shower.
A hair-tie on the bedside table,
silky underwear hiding under the bed.
You will find black strands of hair across your pillowcases,
my sweat against the sheets.
The kitchen will remind you of that time you pushed me against the sink,
bent me in half, dress fallen at my feet.
The upstairs bathroom --
mirror smudged from my naked skin,
hard against the cold glass.
The lounge room --
that couch we reserved for lazy weekends,
our bodies moving slowly against the flickering TV light.
The hallway --
you pushed me up against, hand around my throat.
Atop the cupboard in your walk-in wardrobe.
My body has touched every inch of your house,
my perfume clinging to every shirt you own/
This is your sentence for breaking me down.
And even after you scrub the lipstick marks from your glasses,
throw my photos in the trash,
you won't ever forget how I made you scream out,
no longer human,
our bodies entwined over every last piece of furniture in your goddamn house.