i.
shove your fingers down my throat and let me breathe.
drag the debris inside my body,
drag the debris out, the broken hearts, the broken bones,
the falling tears and the fallen ones.
drag the debris out and make me clean.

ii.
clench the pieces tight with your dirty fingers, and pull.
pull the broken pieces hard, till you rip them out of my body,
and watch as I bleed from my mouth,
as I cry out from the pain, as I scream from the hurt,
as the blood drips down my chin,
staining the ceramic floor.

iii.
don’t worry, it can be washed away,
it’s just a parting gift and the floor with forget in another day.
as only you and I remember, the witnesses in a massacre,
the day etched into the back of our minds,
you and I, the only survivors.

iv.
destroy the aftermath of the hurricane that raked my body,
even as I choke on the pieces that follow behind, falling out of my open mouth, 
a waterfall of things that made me incomplete, torn.
destroy the aftermath of the disaster that hollowed my mind,
that made every step a tale of tragedy.

v.
destroy it all, and give me one last chance.
destroy it all, and make me a blank canvas,
ready to start a life anew.