I wrote you a letter.
At night,
Instead of sleeping,
My hood pulled up over my head
To fend off an irrational sense
Of vulnerability.
It was short. All that I had to say
Was how I felt.
Still, I wrote it carefully.
Once said, these words could never be
Taken back,
Never changed.
I wrote those soft words to you,
And read them, one last time.
I tried to imagine you
Discovering my words, no longer soft,
But permanent,
Irretrievable,
Engraved on the fresh pavement
Outside your front door:
Die, slut.
Die.