Dust from the hole in the wall slowly coming down like a flurry
You whisper, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“That’s not who I am. I promised to never do it again” this wishful hope that these broken promises will keep me there.

Do you like what you see?

Torn, broken, bits of who I was splattered all over the place

Destroyed by words, by anger

Falling to bits like drywall from a punched in hole

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