Shredder.

Scattered words fall from my mouth to develop incoherent messy stutters. My sentences: letters, torn limb from limb. Torn apart to a point of no recognition. Meaning lost, like my tongue. Tearing paper, falling tears. Winkled body. Bloody glass and razor shards. Repressed secrets through pain. Destroyed, Just to keep you safe. The edges of the paper curl, Just like the smoke from its burning ends. Just like my fingers, Like your toes. Agony. Rearranged in a game to make something different. Pieced back together like a broken puzzle. Your eyes knew me once, But you made sure none would ever read me again. The screaming rattle of my destruction. And I stay silent, Lay, Silent. Among the others left in pieces. y o U t o R e m e a p A r t, t H e n f o r g O t m y n a M e. L e A v i n g m e t o D i e, I N a n e m p T y g R a v E ~a shredded piece of paper.