you used to make fun of my inability to stay found in you. mirroring my lost
gazes, biting your lower lip. at first it'd snap me back to the reality I had built in you, it'd remind me of those nights when
you'd sucker me into bed,  biting my lower lip until my eyes stung and rolled. those breathy nights when I swore Veritas sent the water from her well below and her lover sent the clouds from the heavens to cushion me as I fell clumsily into you. you used to compare me to her, not because of the truths I told you but because you said that you could easily tell just from looking at me that my demons and my angels were  fighting. you said that you could tell that sometimes my demons changed my angels against me, you said you could see them handing over their halos for a crown of wooden insecurities. but when I asked what your demons were, you laughed and said, "you are." I started to notice how often I lost myself to the world that lingered over your right shoulder. I noticed how often you had to bring me back saying one day my mysterious mind would **** me. I suppose it did the day you left me cuddled in the corner between the sink and the toilet, tears mascara-ing my brown cheeks while shouting at the skies, "why did you break my heart and then send me to this world?"