Who are you? Are yo the dark shadows of depression with the sweet sorrow of life torn through my soul like a knife ripping through the cold midnight air? Who are you to take my heart in your hands, destroy it and build it back up again like a child knocking down blocks? Who are you to kiss away my tears only to be the cause of a thousand more? Who were you to take a fragile girl, a glass doll, and smash it to the frigid kitchen floor and walk over the jagged piece to search for better kill to partially devour and leave to die?
Who were you to win a broken heart and try to fix it? To kiss away the invisible scars of self hate and pain only to open wounds of a new caliber only to let me bleed out? Who are you to anger me to the point of the ferocity of the burning depths of Hell itself only to use your twisted logic to turn my rage into depression and my dysfunctional heart into putty in your hands, to mold me into what you want, what you think I need. To keep me strung along like tattered clothes on a line of barbed wire. Who are you to make me smile? Who are you to make me feel whole?
And who are you to take that away?
