I can handle mornings, but it's bedtime that I dread. Being alone trying to close my eyes have become unbearable. No, it isn't pain, there isn't any pain, but I'm struggling to endure what seems to have become hollow. It's as if a nonexistent substance is painstakingly disintegrating my insides. I grab one of my scissors and break the skin under my wrist band. It bleeds, and I wanna cut more. It calms me down. I forget about what's eating me away. But I have to stop. They'll notice. I can't afford to have them worry about me again. Sleep doesn't come, but I'm exhausted. I just want someone to stop me from breathing.
I pleaded to him. "Please just tell me the truth. If you have a conscience at all." But he just went on. Lie after lie after lie, they didn't seem to end. "It's better to end my life than end us." I roll my eyes. He won't do it. He's always been a coward. And I've heard this line multitude of times whenever I initiate a breakup. He continued, consistent with his stories, so I lied, too. "I'll give us a chance if you just tell me the truth." And there he went spewing shit: admitting everything, apologizing, begging for forgiveness, defending his actions. Again, admitting everything, apologizing, begging for forgiveness, defending his actions. Once more, blah blah blah blah blah like the endless spinning of an eroded washing machine. I gritted my teeth as the nose started to clog, yet tears still escaped my eyes. "No. There's no going back. This is the end of us. You're filthy. You're disgusting."
They put rings on your fingers to collar you like a dog and keep you on an leash like a property they can collect or a pet they can play with anytime. "She won't leave me" while they prance around and taste whoever they can get their hands on. You walk around wearing your ring proudly, announcing to everyone someone owns you now, but no one knows you exist as his ringless fingers touch someone else's. No, a ring won't change anything.
