does it feel good, darling?

A Poem by tee

Does it feel good, darling, knowing that you've won?

Knowing that I can't get rid of the tightness in my chest making me unable to breathe, making me choke on the words that I can't find it in me to say out loud.

Knowing that I can't get rid of the memory of your fingertips crawling along my skin, fingers that left a pathway of burning bruises in their wake that show their intent.

Knowing that I can't help but look behind me as I stumble ahead, afraid of seeing cold black eyes ready to drag me back to the place that held me hostage.

Does it feel good, darling, knowing that the impression you have made has been carved into my being with a knife so sharp that no amount of time can heal the damage it has made?

Knowing that your words echo in my dreams and follow me in my head, like a chant telling me to just give up already, that no one will be there to catch me.

Knowing that your name tastes like alcohol and anger and the word please begged and pleaded over and over again, desperate and angry and pained.

Knowing that this endless pit within me growing larger by the day looks a lot like the one haunting my dreams; like the one that I know you'll shove me into when you're done.

Does it feel good, darling, knowing that you've made an impact on me just like you wanted, but it burns and aches and stings and feels like torture?

Knowing that I'm desperate for an escape with no one to find, running around like a cornered animal with adrenaline pumping through my veins and one last, desperate act left within me.

Knowing that your words sound just like the voices haunting me day and night, pushing me closer and closer to the edge, the edge that I'm ready to slip off all by myself.

Knowing that this isolation tastes so sour, and it burns all the gashes you left behind like liquor spilling between my lips.

Does it feel good, darling, knowing that you've won?

Even at the cost of me.