I cut my hair
Right under my chin.
Knowing you would hate it, always telling me to keep it long.
Just the way you liked it.
I started drinking again,
Knowing you’d hate it.
You always said you didn’t like the way it made me act.
Or how when I’d be at the bar with my friends I wouldn’t answer your calls, knowing what you would say,
“You aren’t home yet”
“Haven’t you had enough yet”
“Go home, you don’t need anymore”
I started smoking again, only casually.
Knowing you’d hate it, the way it made me taste and smell.
When I would sneak out for a smoke, it infuriated you.
I started kissing strangers, trying to see how my name tastes in someone else’s mouth.
How it could come out filled with hunger, moaned through parted lips.
Instead of the bitter taste it left in my mouth you left as you exhaled it like a curse.
I started taking my clothes off in their cars, I know that would drive you mad.
Needing hands on me that weren’t yours.
Hands that grab me like they want me, not own me.
I stopped taking my meds, that was the person you wanted me to be.
Obedient and composed, a weak willed girl who crumbled at your feet.
Just where you wanted her.
This is my last goodbye, but more importantly, the final fuck you.
I’ll never think of what we had as something that will make me smile. I hope you have trouble sleeping at night, knowing I killed the familiar parts of me.