United States

Y'know, I really hope I can pull off the cool mysterious deep writer persona. That'd be sick.

Message from Writer

When I write, I can shake off all my cares. - Anne Frank

I Love You, But You Hate Me

March 29, 2017


He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me hard. 
Tears spilling down my cheeks, he broke me.
He broke my confidence,
Our love was a blindfold.
His embrace was a cage.
His smile was a leash.
His laugh was a warning.
I was in a prison, unaware of the bars that caged me in.
His words ripped me to shreds and left me in pieces.
Does he care?
Does he care that he hurts me,
breaks me,
lies to me.
Why couldn't he just let me down easily?
Why did he want to destroy me?
What did I do?
Do I really deserve this?
The humiliation of crying in front of him and every one else.
The lies.
I am a victim to the cruelest kind of torture.
I loved, but was not loved.
I was caring, but not cared for.
I was discarded.
I was thrashed.
I was killed.
Do I even matter anymore? 
This all seems like a nightmare.
Wake me up.
Wake me up.
Wake me up.
I'm done dreaming. 
Stop putting me to sleep.
You can't control me.
You can only break me.
This isn't love.
You hate me. 
Why did you even date me?
I can't do this, you're making me hate myself. 
Let me be! 
You made me cry,
want to die,
and fly far, far away.
Today is the day I am freed from my prison.
It hurts.
It bruises me.
It cuts me.
It's killing me!
Forgive me, and tell me that you love me.
I'm stuck to you.
I don't want you, but I can't leave you.
I love you. 
help me.
I'm an addict left to her own devices. 


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  • March 29, 2017 - 1:06am (Now Viewing)

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