Don’t You Dare Stay, Don’t You Dare Leave

I didn’t ask you to come. You came anyway-- like sympathy could scrub the blood off my breath. Don’t you see? My grief is mine. You’re holding tissues like they matter. You’re speaking like you understand. You don’t. Not the burn. Not the echo. Let me fall. Let me break and crawl through it-- I need the splinters to feel like proof that I was touched at all. And yet, if you leave now I will hate you more than I already hate everything else.