I always hear that I'm special. You always wanted me to be "special." I could open up my veins for you, and you would still spit out rusty compliments.
I'd bite my nails off because you hated them more than you hated yourself. You'd take me on endless journeys that always led back to your ****** up dreams. I was the key to the box you couldn't open. I was the grasp you couldn't get on reality.
You told me you loved the way I got goosebumps whenever you played with my hair. You said the glint in my eyes when I saw you was mesmerizing.
Goosebumps turned into bruises.
Glints turned into winces.
I found the letters I wrote you in your eyes. I found my heart in your hands. I found my pride in your smile.