You Knew I'd Break, Didn't You? Poem by Frankline Shem O.

By: Frankline Shem

You knew the house was burning,
Still, you handed me a match.
You said,
‘Warm yourself.'

You knew my breath was breaking,
so you painted the walls with smoke
and called it incense.

You knew I was drowning,
so you tied a stone to my ankle
and said,
‘Swim better.'

You knew I was starving,
so you laid out a feast
and locked the door.

You knew my legs were already breaking,
so you danced on my knees
and laughed when you saw joy in the blood

You knew the night
had teeth.
Still, you blew out my candle
and whispered,
‘You're safe.'

You knew I was cracking,
but your hands
were made of mirrors,
and
I only saw myself
falling apart.