i watched you take every piece of me and shove them into your mouth. simply put, i watched you devour me. my essence, my personality; all that was left was you, your hands, my hands like your hands around my own throat pretending they were your hands.

  i don't know what i mistook it for.

  i don't know how i could have.

  could you explain this to me? you, the crow on my window sill, watching me peck my eyes out with the corners of my fists (pretending it was you, it was you, it was you, pretending it was me pretending it was you) like i am mad, i am terribly, terribly crazy. i won't say hello to you; you can **** us both to hell.

  i poured my blood in a cup for you.

  does it make sense now?

  the way you held it with your black black nails clicking against the side, something awful like chalk on a chalkboard or maybe a marker on a chalkboard, it's all the same; in my head you're the bad one.

  i poured my blood in a cup for you and i watched you ****** it out of my hands and i watched you take the whole of me, my eyes, my ears, my brain, the pieces of grey matter that shouldn't be grey matter. you smashed the cup on the ground. it was a nice cup, what a waste.

  do you want a prize? do you want an award for pretending you weren't the bad one?

  (you're the bad one, i keep telling myself. you were bad. you were bad. am i bad? or at least share the blame, you know, we're both...)

  ask the people in the past who hurt you, who dug their nails into your skin and refused to let go and dug them in further until all that was left of you were the places their fingernails had been, tell me, report with your findings: am i bad? am i bad? (were you bad?)