I Hate It
I hate you, ok no not you.
I hate what you do, no that's not it either.
I hate what you do to me.
That's what I hate.
How you can twist and bend me however you want and I don't fight back. You keep stabbing me and I keep asking if you want to do it again.
You've got me thinking that I'm the one who messed up. That I'm the one who's being unfair.
I hate it.
I hate that all I want is to be close to you. You keeping drawing me in.
I know it's not real.
The way you look at me. The way you smile and laugh and god just exist. You're just pretending. You're manipulating your way into my being and I'm allowing you. You're that poison apple the evil queen gave to that innocent girl. And just like her I gave into temptation.
I fell for the illusion that you are.
But what I hate more is that I don't want to stop you. I don't want to stop your manipulation or your sick twisted games.
I want you to drive the knife as deep as you can.
I'll eat that whole apple.
And it might sound insane but that's the point you've driven me too.
No, not you.
It was me.
I drove myself to this. You just simply gave me the steps to follow, and I did.
That's my downfall.
Not you, because it's never been you.
But my willingness. I have been so willing that I didn't notice that I was slowly but surely losing myself to you. I'm a prisoner to no one but myself. You are merely just a bystander watching my wretched demise.
And I hate it. How'll I'll let you rip me apart without a second thought. How'll I'll come running at the snap of your fingers waiting at the ready of your next command. I'm that pure soft snow on Christmas morning waiting for your heavy feet to stomp into and break apart and shape however you want.
You've made me my worst enemy.
You have settled a permanent part in me and there is no removing you.
It doesn't matter how far I get from you. You will always be there. In the back of my head lingering and waiting for me to have a relapse. And no one is at fault but me. For being so weak to you and your games.
It's sadistic on my end because I can't wait for you to tear into me. It's agony and complete bliss at the same time.
But I hate it.
How I've become so dependent on your abuse. I hate how I breathe and beg for it. It's so unbelievably vile. No human, no person should want this type of torture but I do.
And it only get's darker from there.
When I think of you it's not brightness that comes to mind. No joy and happiness.
It's shadows and whispers of tragedy. It's all the sins I've committed and you are my ultimate consequence. I am no longer pure, there is no redemption for me. No confession that could cleanse my soul. Just sweet emptiness with the slight hint of numbness.
It is oh so beautiful.
Because it's type of nirvana if you will. But it's not enlightening. No, it's anything but. But it's a level of realization. A level of which no man should ever reach. But I have. It's my own personal hell that I have built with no escape route. Because there is no escaping reality.
And I hate that the most.
A/N: Yeah something I wrote an wanted to post. I'll be updating Its Always About Her soon. Peace ✌️
