Broken

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Love.
What a silly excuse for how you make me feel.
Yes, I care dearly about you but if this is what you call love, why does it feel as if I have been torn apart and stepped on aggressively. If this is your so-called love then answer me this, why didn’t you stop me when I brought the blade to my wrist? Why am I now sitting here in the silent abyss writing how you brought me to the bottom most point of my life? And most of all why is it all I want to do at this moment in my life with you is watch you suffer just as I have while I risked my "love" for you.
Hm...I always thought love was a two-person game, not a one-way street to hell. Possibly, in my attempt to discover what love was you misguided me into thinking love was letting one person into your heart to watch them turn your organs a full 360 into something you do not even recognize. Maybe I am wrong but that was what it felt like you did.
It seemed to me you burrowed a hole into my heart and took refuge, yes, it was nice in the beginning, but I soon came to realize my soul was slowly disappearing. I swear it felt as if you were sucking the emotions right out of me. I was completely vulnerable by the time you were done feeding off my love for you.
You left me broken; with nothing to do but turn back to the serenity the blade gave my heart as it slices my pale wrists. Scarring the once smooth and warm skin you touched so many times to enlighten my desire for you. I turn to the blade to get rid of the sensation one simple touch inflicts, in hope to reserve that memory for you and only you.
I am addicted to you.
I do not want another to awaken the desire you once stirred. I want the memories of us to remain. I know not of what will become of this final cut. Part of my being hopes it is my end and I never have to live through another day of fake smiles and tear stained pillows, but the other part is hopeful for you to return to me. For you to realize I am the one you crave and the only one you wish to be with for the rest of our days.
Forever and always. Isn’t that what you promised?
I scarcely remember those moments when you called me yours and I claimed you as mine. Though I wonder if I think hard enough about it if the memories will return as if they were the yesterday I crave to be my reality. However, in the end I only have broken promises and empty words





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