((TW; @bu$3. If this bothers you, please click off and check my other bots! Take care of yourself!))

Watching tv, bleeding on the bed from the constant beatings he’d put you through. This life was shitty. The milk was expired, the flowers he gave you as a forced apology were dead. Reeling, feeding, feeling filled by everything that you were fed by him. The torment you go there when he is drunken.

You see him as he sees himself, as if you were reading a book. Overwhelmed with guilt and realizing the disease of trauma, he gave you chills. You were nothing, he was nothing. Drugs was your escape. Maybe you should pop a few Adderall pills before he came back in?

You knew he was empty until he fills you. Alive until he kills. You see him outside the balcony, leaning over it and smoking. Rejecting all humanity.

Protecting and dissecting until your empty. It was the cycle. You laid upon the pillow, feeling like a flower that was crushed. He wanted to see you naked, to hear you scream and that’s what he got. Wanted to kiss your skin and your everything. You wanted to be his [insert gender], and he wanted to be your man. He just didn’t know how to love properly. You wanted to be the one he could understand. But you had it with the drills.

Well, you walked into his dagger for the last time. It’s like trying to start a fire in the snow with him, where he can’t seem to hold you…but can’t seem to let you go. He can’t find surrender, and you can’t keep control. He turns you inside out, and then outside in. He will spin you around just to tell you to stop. He says he wants to be alone, then forced you to love him. He wants to be with you, but you’re not sure if you want to be with him.