You thought you knew me,
Sweet girl, gentle personality.
Never saying no, forever laughing, always obliging.
But you hadn’t met them yet,
The dangerous demons perpetually hiding deep inside me.
Behind warm smiles and glittering eyes,
Darkness was writhing, twisting, rising.

You thought you knew me.
All those late nights laughing and pillow talking quietly,
I filled your impressionable mind with lovely fantasies;
About what we could do, where we’d go, what you meant to me.
If only I could be that girl I pretended to be.

But you failed to see,
I would never be free.
These **** demons had their hold on me.
Shackled to pain, hatred, self doubt,
I morphed into a caged animal,
Seeking any way out.
But with no escape in sight,
I couldn’t outwardly give up the fight.
So I’d smile, laugh, make love,
Pretending everything was alright.

You thought you knew me,
But that was simply an intricate mask.
Beautifully designed and masterfully created,
To hide the corrupt, mangled, darker places.
But that delicately crafted facade couldn’t last.
It was slipping...crumbling...cracking fast.

As time slipped by,
You lost the girl you thought you knew.
Yet just as my demons did to me,
I slowly, methodically manipulated you.
My darkness bled into your once pure veins,
Your love and happiness quickly faded away.
Perhaps you sensed you were broken,
Yet you stayed.
Poor boy.
Even if you had wanted, there was no way out.
Me, my demons, and the darkness had you in chains.

You thought you knew me.
You definitely didn’t at the beginning.
But to your regret, now you do.
Suddenly you notice the fake smile and darkness in my eyes,
Since you learned how to feign happiness too.
I left the moment I knew I had fully broken and corrupted you.

When you first met me,
You thought you understood the girl before you.
Only too late did you realize,
You never really knew me at all.

————

I saw him the other day,
Chatting and laughing with a beautifully innocent girl
A chilly smile slithered across my face,
Watching her fall under his dark spell and the way his lips taste.

Poor girl, you think you know him,
But you don’t.
And you won’t truly see...
Until it’s too late and you’re shattered, broken, and entirely empty inside.
Darling, I know how that feels.
That’s what happened to me originally.

Leaving her to him, I walked away thinking,
“We all become broken humans at the end.”

Ever since I was young, it felt like I was constantly under attack. Not from one singular enemy, but many and seemingly unending. I watched as villains raised their needles and plunged them into my body, much like swords slicing through skin. I remember screaming in pain and begging someone to save me, but no one ever came.

I soon learned there would never be a reprieve, it was never going to get any better. There was no prince or savior in my story.

I didn’t realize, or rather want to admit, I had already been mortally wounded. A fiery rage had been lit from the first attacks against me, and try as I might to ignore it, it would keep growing through the years.

The only option I had was to craft myself a suit of armor. It took years to build up something that could withstand the onslaught of constant torture. I worked every day to perfect the armor I showed the world. Every night I’d scrub away the rust and polished it until my soul ached and my heavy heart burned. The tricky thing about this armor was the metal of my defenses shown so brightly, it reflected what others wanted to see. Everyone saw their own version of me, but none of them really understood they were seeing a mere reflection. Not my reality.

What I didn’t realize about this carefully crafted armor was that it was also trapping me. That fire that had been lit so many years ago increasing raged through me. I could feel it burn through my veins with every attack. The armor prevented anyone from seeing it.... but I was ******* fire screaming for help. But my screams were echoed inside my own suit but silenced on the outside.

The worst bit is, if someone tries to reach out, to touch even in kindness, the metal burns them harshly. The fiery rage that’s kindled for so long internally is conducted easily by the metal I’ve wrapped around me. Now, the terrifying truth dawns on me.

There is no way someone can save me without burning themselves. I’ve built myself a metal prison, where I will eventually crumble to ash when the fire dies out.

I'm not sure who to address this letter to, myself or my ex lover...

I've always had this love affair with self destruction. As if life wasn't already difficult enough, I constantly sought out my own blend of vices and chaos to add to the mix. Perhaps something inside me has always been beautifully broken, disastrously unrepairable; so I've endlessly searched for things, places, and people that either were damaged themselves or caused further destruction. It made me feel closer to normal.

Every relationship I had was one I knew was doomed from the beginning. Yet, I chased after them anyway, running after the pain I knew would come. It was almost as if there was a little red button, above certain people or right before I did something incredibly stupid, that screamed and beeped and flashed "DO NOT TOUCH. MUTUAL DESTRUCTION ENSURED." Obviously, I always pressed the button.

While I admit I have caused more people undeserved pain than I care to think about, I should clarify it was never about hurting you. I think somehow I innately understood whatever I was about to do would blow up in my face, send shrapnel ripping through my already wrecked body; and that was what I craved. I was and am addicted to destruction.

I guess my mentality is jump or don't, you can't just stand there on a cliff forever. You either can turn around and walk away or run and jump. And when you hit the water, you can swim and enjoy the ocean for awhile or go find a new cliff to jump from or a new ocean to swim in, if this one doesn't suit you.

The future is unpredictable, why stand on the edge forever debating ever tiny thing and waiting for perfect conditions? Nothing is ever going to be perfect.

(Nobody is going to be perfect.)

And if it doesn't work out, get out, dry yourself off, and try again. But don't stand there waiting for perfection, because no matter what cliff you stand on or what ocean you want to jump in, it will never ever be just right.

The water might be freezing at first, but could you get used to it? Or maybe the water is warm and perfect.
Perhaps it's too choppy, but give it time and the tide will slacken and the water will calm.
Yes, there is the potential that the waves will be too big and try to pull you under, but you can fight and swim out if it's too much.
But there's always the chance you learn to swim and it's beautiful and worth it. Worth the fear of jumping, worth trying to figure out.

But you'll never know for certain if you just stand there. Waiting.

I'm not the type of girl to hesitate on the edge and wait. I either jump or leave. I'm not telling you that you have to jump with me. I don't want to feel like I've made someone do something they don't want to do. But I can't just stand here unsure. I've never been that girl.

I've always either gone after what I want, despite every obstacle in my way, or it's not something I want badly enough and I won't follow through.

And if you're waiting for perfect wife conditions and contemplating the high and low tides and thinking years from now, you're going to be on that cliff for a long time. And you might miss out on some fun waves and warm water. The sun might set and it will be too late. But here's the thing, I just know I won't be waiting around for a long time.

We've had a nice long picnic on this pretty little cliff darling, but now it's time for something different. I'm on the edge and ready to jump. Question is, are you?

Being with you was like trying to keep water in cupped hands.
No matter how tightly I held, you still seeped through the cracks.

All I wanted was merely a sip,
A tiny taste of the love you had to offer.
I had been thirsty without knowing I needed a drink until you teased me with your cool touch.

But before I could bring my hands to my lips,
The last drop hit the floor.
You were gone.
Leaving me nothing to soothe my chapped lips and burnt heart.

But here's a secret I learned shortly after you left.
I wasn't in a desert and you weren't an oasis.
All I had to do was grab a glass and turn on the tap.
I found a way to quench my thirst from another source,
And from that day I never looked back.

The way he talks,
God he's so in love
With the girl before me.

There is a war
     waging inside me
    tearing me
to pieces.
Do I grovel for forgiveness
    fight for this
or run...
        like I've always done?

I don't know how it works
trying to be
a part of something
       bigger than
                    me.

I feel complete blindness and
     terrifying uncertainty.
                   Is it me?
    Am I ruining whatever this is?
Or are you to blame too?

Don't you see
      I've never done this before.
           Everything is new to me
       and I'm trying my best
but I fear I keep faltering...
                                     failing....
                                           falling.
I've only ever looked out for myself
    and yet
         here I am dancing
     on my tippy toes
trying to please you.
No ones ever wanted me
          around constantly
        so instinctively
I pull back.
I'm not sure I'll ever get this right
            especially
if you don't understand my
         doubt and
               hesitation.

Is this love
    or agony?

I didn't know it was possible
      to confuse the two.
Some days I feel
    oh so high and happy
that's when it's easy to be with you.
     But there are days like this where
          it appears
I've messed up
                     again.
Now there's
simply radio
    silence.

I'm struggling daily.
If it's all me
      if all these mistakes
          are only mine to make
     do I continue trying?
There's no promise
     I'll get better.
I worry in time
you'll get sick
            of my constant shortcomings.

But if I give up
    run like I've done
what's the cost?
I've lost
       you
for good this time.
      I'm at a c
                    r
                    o
                   ­ s
            roads
        
Is this love or
       agony?

Please just tell me.
Should I fight or flee?
Do you still want
        me?