Letters Between Sundays

Why did you pick me for your victim?

Why did you fill my head with cement?

What did I do, for you to erase who I was?

I thought we were friends. I thought we were best friends.

We shared lists of baby names and showed each other our scars.

We pretended we didn’t notice each others’ eating disorders.

You turned me into a fool, with your con artist words.

You are slick with your words like the snake was with Eve.

I drank your poisoned words and looked at myself the way you see me.

But when all your masks shatter,
will you face the monster you are,
or just search for someone else to bleed?

You took my trust and wore it like a crown,
but when the mirror finally breaks,
will you see me in the pieces—
or only your reflection?

You turned me into your prey,
but predators always stay hungry.
Who will you poison next?