I paint the town red

A slam poem about my abusive ex-boyfriend.

Some nights I am filled with peace.

On other nights,

I paint the town red in his blood. 

I smash every single one of my memories,

until I feel brand new again.

I dream of becoming a millionaire

so I can set fire to all of my things

and only own things, he has never touched.

I wish I could do the same to myself

without dying.

My lips have forgotten what kissing him tastes like

but my stomach recoils at the memory.

He wrapped his arms around my throat

and threatened to call the police on me.

Nobody believed me,

as he twisted every word I said into another lie.

A prison of his own making. 

I daydream of him losing everything.

In reality, I am the one who has to pick up the pieces

of everything he destroyed.

I paint the town red 

with all the lies he has told me

and set fire to a life built on them.

Sometimes I go back to the first time,

the first fight 

and tell myself to get out now.

Nothing is worse than his hand wrapped around my wrist.

Holding on so tight, it will leave bruises on paper-white skin. 

I still get panic attacks, if someone grabs it

just to hold my attention.

I feel more anger inside of me

than any body can contain

and I dream of painting the town red in his blood.

But I am the author of this story.

I am stronger,

than he ever had any courage to be.

I am good.

And I paint the town in all my favorite colors

and I paint over his face. 

I paint over the pain and the anger.

I paint and paint and paint

until one day, it becomes a masterpiece

and I will be everything

and he will be nothing.

Some nights I wanna paint the town red.

Some nights I feel at peace.

One day he'll just be forgotten.

One day I'll be at peace.

And my masterpiece will be a rainbow.

I am the author of this story.