(Sometimes) I hate you, But the neediest parts of me still crave the vague admiration you hid between pages of manipulation and abuse.
I tell myself that Iβve moved on. I ignore the cold sweats and screams that interrupt my dreams. I push the thought of you to the bottom left corner of my mind, Stored with other trauma, like family dinners and math homework.
It takes all the strength left in me Not to set your castle of comfort ablaze With the months of lies and exploitation. How easily I could send it all tumbling with the flick of a finger, Yet I donβt. Maybe its because Iβm humane and lenient in the ways you never were, Or maybe its because Iβm a coward Just like you.