Someone’s playing the piano somewhere but I can’t hear the beauty of the art because you’re screaming again.
I disown you. You aren’t mine anymore.
Someone’s painting a masterpiece somewhere but I can’t see the smooth strokes of possibility because you’re screaming again.
No one will ever love you. No one wants you. You’re going to be alone.
Someone’s singing a melody of hope wrapped in vines of tranquility and I can’t quite understand the words because you’re screaming again.
Why don’t you just kill yourself already.
Someone’s knocking at the door…convinced they can save me but I won’t open it because you’re screaming again.
All I can feel are the daggers of 10,268 days, 246,408 hours, 887,068,800 seconds. Of every living, breathing moment I didn’t choose to have…and yet, I’m still here…despite your screaming.
I wish you were never born.
Some days, I feel the same way. I’d put on the headphones to stifle the sound, the gut-wrenching echoes of your vocal attacks but such things cannot kill the scars that fester in my mind.