The Man I Used to Call My Lover
He came into my room and stole my safety,
Shoving me back into the holes left by my glacial childhood.
Inside of one well drunk bottle he became my parents,
Delivering the bruising blows with his taunting tongue
While shaming me with vitriolic laughter,
Til my shaking spirit hid trembling in the corner,
And when the time was right for him to say "I'm sorry",
I was made to bear the blame.