it's sickening the hold you still have on me

when you're nothing but 

a rotting corpse,

an empty sack of flesh, 

decaying

in the dirt

beneath my  feet. 

yet i still find myself 

trying to limit the mess my ashes make when i burn

trying to quiet my screams as i drown

trying to decide how much i can bleed before i stain the carpet

all because of the lessons i learned

from you. 

it's sickening.