4. i won't mention it again

 

i'm 16 and feel melted and salty, like butter on a sidewalk,
i slide down my bedroom walls and spot my rug with stains
i become smaller by the second
drop by drop on the way down

outside my house i hear yelling and shouting
a fight has begun
it smells coppery and violent
i ponder how to run away

a fist breaks through my bedroom's window
glass comes raining down on my little twin size bed
shimmering with the moonlight
i try to recover, to unmelt and hide away

i'm 16 and i feel terrified of dying
way before the thought became desirable
i want to fix my broken window and my broken heart
unaware it will take about 10 years to heal

i stay scared
for years and years
the fear arises in the strangest moments
nothing but a sound, but a smell

i want to heal this pain from my mind
to become put-together
to no longer fear the smell of copper and the raining glass
i want to stop mentioning this incident in therapy