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Monotone Nov 2021
I question every decision I make.
I regret every action I take.
Monotone Nov 2021
I know it's cliche to call you toxic-
and to be honest you were more intricate than that.
'Toxic' seems too crude, unorganized for you.
No, you weren't toxic.
But you manipulated me in ways I hadn't foreseen.
You tore every shred of who I was apart,
and if that wasn't enough,
you set fire to it and watched it burn.
The tears I shed were never enough to cease the flames.
And now that I've finally given in,
you've thrown me away for someone new to play with.
I'm left to simply build myself up again-
left to rise out of the ashes like a phoenix.
I guess it's fitting to end on another cliche.
Monotone Nov 2021
With anger there comes clarity.
Not during it, no.
After- when you can see past the hurt.
And you can see you’re not at fault
for the pain they intentionally cause.
Monotone Nov 2021
I’m not the right flavor for you.
My love is shown a particular way-
I give you reassurance,
you consider it babying you.
I ask about your day-
tell me I’m simping.
I want to call-
and you say I’m annoying.

But then-
I change those habits,
And now I’m a walking red flag.
You molded me how you wanted me,
But now you want the original again?
I’m sorry, but you don’t get that choice.
Monotone Nov 2021
If I were to try again-
I would change a few things.
The first being my silence as a child-
when He molested and ***** me.
The second being my maturing-
I was forced to grow up too quick.
The last being my habits-
If I had never self harmed,
I never would have become addicted to it.
That’s it. That’s all.
Monotone Nov 2021
I feel unneeded.
And that’s so different from unwanted.
I feel as though I serve no purpose for others.
The ones I love simply don’t need me.
I feel as though I only hinder-
I’m in the way.
They’re indifferent.
I’m not unwanted,
I’m simply unneeded.
Monotone Nov 2021
I'm out of place-
I have been for a while now.
Something triggered it,
but I'm not quite sure when.
I'm off.
Nothing I do feels right,
and I'm starting to forget who I am.
My parents continue asking where their daughter went.
My brothers treat me as though I'm fragile-
and even my closest friends feel like strangers.
I don't know what's wrong with me,
that's the scary part.
I'm numb, but I'm not.
I'm depressed, but I'm not.
It's like I'm starring in my own personal horror movie-
the victim is me-
the killer is me-
and a ****** waiting to take place.
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