Paperweight

You never loved me; you loved the sickness in me.

most of us needed a little something extra to be okay.

But wouldn’t you rather be real and flawed, then some synthetic perfect girl who never really lived?”

All of me stitched together and straining at the seams.

My body is both weapon and wound, predator and prey. I will self-destruct without any help.

‘The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off’

It felt good, knowing exactly where the hurt was, knowing that if I wanted to stop it I could.

if my body is nothing but water, constantly on the verge of dissolving in tears. She’s made me weak.

so much grief and anger there was barely room for us.

I have no more fight in me. Whatever was left has leaked out, through the cracks in the floor tiles, leaving nothing but the faintest ghost of a stain.