I’m going to write you a letter. Not now, most likely not tomorrow. Maybe before I die, just after I get better.
See I found the problem. The problem with me is my problem with you. I have discovered I am the modern parasite. I am the soul sucker. I cling to your skin and your heart. All those little chunks--- I bite.
I know.
I was intoxicating. I was lovely. I was fragile. I was broken.
You wanted to fix me. But instead,
I broke You. I tore you apart and clawed out your heart. Your eyes went glassy and your feelings fell apart.
I destroyed you.
You, You, You, You, You, You and You. But who’s counting?
I take responsibility but I do not take blame. I showed mercy, see. I gave you a way out. I opened doors and offered temptation. I warned you. I wanted you gone. I wanted you safe. I screamed until my lungs became asphyxiated but unlike you; I’m breathing fine.