There are days you make me mad, so mad I wanna rip the nonexistent hair off my chest —so mad I burn bridges down.
But some days, you make me feel special, you make me feel like I'm a mile ahead. You have taught me to keep my chin up, smile like there's nothing wrong. Pretend to be okay, act as if you're okay. Sit. Sit and be proper, don't eat too much, learn not to eat at all, dress up and look good, people are looking.
All these unending requests and standards.
I don't even like you anymore but hell do I wonder why I'm sticking around.
I reek of betrayal.
