Punching Bag

I have this inkling feeling each time before i break a tightness in my chest, i swallow air and each time i want to discard every piece of you i own but i forget, forget, forget i close it off, i just don’t think about it and silently i let you barge in on my space and ask for more all you do is ask for more then good days turn into bad days and all my good poetry turns into bad poetry now i’m standing in the shower thinking over my day you didn’t do anything but disappoint me i didn’t get a lot of birthday wishes this year nor did my grandma send me the right book but i wasn’t upset, cause there was always you not anymore, i guess at least not the way i want it you make a point of walking over me and then wiping your feet and i make a point of breaking down and crying like a little kid and i don’t know how to say that i want to go alone since you’ll follow me anywhere but i need you to stop being attached attached to me, your punching bag