And there’s no fucking word to describe the way I feel about you.
I fucking despise you with everything I have.
You fucked me up for your own benefit. Your own sickening, disgusting benefit.
And you don’t give a fuck.
Or maybe you don’t know that when someone says “no”, they fucking mean it.
So now here I am. Hating you, loathing you, wanting nothing more than for you to receive the same treatment I did, that night.
I want you to wake up and realise that you will never be the fucking same again, because someone just stole your dignity, they took it and crushed it into dust, all without your fucking consent.
I’m not sure at what point I lost myself again, and I certainly don’t know what caused it.
I cannot recognise my reflection in the mirror, once more. I am not me. My eyes are hazy and greener than usual, which is generally an indicator of deep sadness or poisonous anger.
I have succumbed to the hellish depths of depression and successfully hidden that fact from everyone around me.
And I have no choice but to keep hiding how I truly feel, because I can’t let anyone down anymore.
A billion thoughts and not one of them matters.
Colliding into one another always, but it doesn’t matter.
Voices in my head shouting the worst at me and not one of them matters.
The shouts are deafening at times, but it doesn’t matter.
It’s agony, it’s torture, it’s mental illness at it’s peak.
But I just have to remember, it ain’t weak to speak.
I know they don’t mean to hurt me;
the nearest and dearest.
But it seems as though my little old heart can’t take much.
Breaks a lot easier than others you see,
for it has been mended back together so many times you couldn’t count them on your hands.
Even the slightest of bumps and it shatters,
and what a regular occurrence this has become for me.
It’s the fact that I’m not even an afterthought anymore – I am nothing and I am no one, to people who are the reason that I choose to continue to live.
Maybe I am just a little bit too sensitive.
But that’s my burden, not anyone else’s.
And this fragile heart of mine? I just hope that it’ll mend, in time.