I loved a boy far too long, who only saw me as an object
And when I objected to who he thought I should be-
            Someone  “less vulgar”
                             “More outgoing”
                             “Less opinionated”
He trimmed and picked away at my core
Until it formed into the shape of the box he wanted me to fit in
 
I found comfort in silence, until he forced me not to
Until he forced me to find a home in his voice
And when I finally found that home-
            Moved in
            Hung up pictures
            Painted the walls the exact same color brown as his eyes
He left
 
Before, I used the sound of his voice as guidance
But now, Im learning the ins and outs of my own again
 
When he left, I did everything in my power to avoid the silence that came at night
But now, it helps me sleep peacefully

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