It’s funny, how life just decided to become what it is. How nothing ever stayed the same from what it was.
And I wanted to write, so that I could tell you what you meant.
You were not simple.
It’s funny how I allowed everything to be crushed and dismembered by you.
How my face looked when you left, how my heart tore; pieces of flesh scattered in my blue blood.
I always imagined you loving me.
But you never did,
and I assume you never will.
I felt like I had to tear the valves of my heart and rearrange the blood flow that you had previously fucked up. I had to tear and twist and rip my skin so that I could go back to the way I was without you.
I destroyed myself for you. Every bit of me was blind with the dangerous love I had for you. I couldn't breathe, without your acceptance. I couldn't feel without you saying it was ok.
I was trapped under you,
the pressure large enough to shatter the earth
large enough to make me feel the smallest I could have ever felt.
enough to where i was in your hand, I was in the palm of your hand and you crushed me with every ounce of force you had.
I don't know how I escaped.
But I’m glad I did.