Scratch marks on my headboard,
torn sheets and a cracked wall;
the place that symbolizes us.
The shattered picture frames and mirrors
that once showed our smiling faces;
now deranged, twisted and contorted.
How did I become such a terrible thing?
How did you become such a terrible thing?
It wasn't suposed to be.
How did we become?
Oh, how did we become ...
Author notes
This was written a little while back when my boyfriend had just starting doing hard drugs and would come to my house when he was high instead of going home, so no one would find out. He was a monster while on drugs ... I guess you can tell what went on by the poem =/
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