Two parts crawling away from each other.
"I hate you!"
Polar opposites sloppily chained together in the same host.
The war rages on.
Both sides pull away, one in obsessed adoration, the other in disgusted hate.
Their vicious war tore up the fragile city around.
The host sits alone in the rubble of what they have done.
Unable to explain to parts crawling, writhing inside, possessing, taking, controlling, destroying.
Labeled as a monster.
The people do not want to be around a monster.
Yet underneath, the truth, without the parasites, is a shade of gray.
It is unfortunate the parasites cannot see any shades but their own and the stark opposite, black and white.
So the war continues on.
Stay strong, my dear.
I'll keep walking with you down this path, as the thorns scratch my ankles and the glass cuts my feet, I'll keep going with you.
I cannot repay you for what you have done for me.
You keep me going.
A motivation not to believe the lies my brain feeds me.
A reason to keep that bowl of sickly candy untouched.
You fought for me.
You patched me up.
I know what you are to me, not a crush, none of that foolish nonsense anymore, even more than a friend.
And while I know you do not care for me as much as I care for you, I'll keep going.
I'll keep going with you.
It seems I was correct.
I really couldn't trust you.
She had the gun, but you gave her the bullets.
That's exactly what my mother used to say.
As I bled out onto my sheets.
As she tore up any bit of self esteem I had left.
She didn't care.
I was just being a drama queen.
I guess she was correct.
Or really, it seems I was.
I knew you did not believe it when you said you loved me.
I knew you would not care if I was not here.
I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.
You told me the voice was wrong.
Looks like it was right.