sometimes, i wish you would die.

i wish that you would close your eyes and see my face haunting your dreams, causing sleepless nights.
i wish that you couldn't eat your favourite food anymore without feeling sick to your stomach because it makes you think of me.
i wish that you would die so you would experience even an ounce of the pain that you caused me.

sometimes, i wish i would die.

i wish that i would have fought you harder, said "no" a little louder, been a little stronger.
i wish i could love someone again without being terrified that they're just like you.
i wish that i would die just so i would never have to think about you ever again.

sometimes i wish we were both dead, so nobody would ever have to know that i thought this way.

I watch you everyday,
go through the same routine.
I am a puppet master,
pulling on your strings,
watching you move in the same way everyday,
as if you’re a robot,
programmed to experience life, but not to live it

press X to wake up,
X to take medications,
X to skip breakfast.
I play this game everyday,
and as much as i want to choose dance in the rain or go see friends.
i cant bring myself to do it.

you deserve this life,
this life of solitude,
this life of mundane tasks and emotional pain,
you deserve to cry when you look in the mirror
you deserve to be messed with,
you ******* deserve it, and you know it.
I know it.

but life is hard,
when you’re the puppet.

your hands grab my wrist
maybe youre falling
its a crowded train
we can all barely breathe
everyone is touching everyone
backs leaning on backs
its normal
its fine
but something about your hold is different
it lingers
hands on my hips
pushing yourself onto me
not once
not an accident
again and again
up and down
up and down
my heart races
i cant move
i try to get off the train
you hold me back
i cant breathe
i cant move
maybe at the next station
you continue
we arrive at the next station
i wait until the last possible minute
i run out
i run out of your grasp
i dont look back
i should have looked back
i cant breathe
is it my fault?
am i a magnet?
to the men who dont know me
but who choose to know my body.