If I could rearrange the hands of time
I'd pray to God that this time, I'd find the strength to spite you.
I'd stop myself--
from letting you engrave yourself in my smile.
from desperately lapping at the poisoned holy water that poured from your mouth.
from allowing my hands to be pinned beside my head, as I lifted you on a pedestal.
Because I'm sick of picking up shards of my heart that keep reopening the cuts you left
Because still, after all this time, I can feel your hand around my neck
Still trying to squeeze the little air out I've managed to choke back into my lungs.
I treated you like you were the last drop of water in a barren desert. You addicting hell, you beautiful temptation, you cracked hourglass, you wasted my time with every grain of sand that fell from your goddamn mouth.
But the day you vanished was the day that I knew.
I was only a temporary fetish for you.