I Wonder How Much the Windows Have Seen

I wonder how much

the windows have seen,

as I slip away

into uptight dreams

Dreams of you

and your calloused hands

delicately orchestrating

a symphony of pain.

Calloused hands that ripped away

my clothing, happiness

and everything I am –

everything I’m meant to be.

Meant to be –

at least, I thought we were.

until your poisoned breath

invaded the now wavering air–

I wonder how much

the windows have seen

as my fingers wrap around

the bottle – my only friend–

The bottle of pills

I swallow once again…

to take away everlasting

anticipation and depression

Swallowing them, like candy,

waiting for the numbness

to drown me in

the ever crashing waves–

Waves of your peering eyes,

your judgemental words–

coming back for more

of my ever-fading purity.

I wonder how much

the windows have seen

while I bathe in memories

of the hell that is you;

The hell, which never leaves

as years go by, refusing

to let me recover –

like needles in my brain,

refusing to heal

after all this time

because I still can’t believe

you hurt me this way.

You get success…

you’re happier

while somehow,

I hurt

deeper than ever.