I fought for you.
I defended you when people said you were heartless and conceited.
But at what cost?
Your words cut me like razor blades.
But I stayed because I thought I loved you and that you loved me.
But you didn't.
And as it turns out, I didn't either.
I would sit for hours listening to you talk about yourself.
Not pausing even once to ask how my day was.
Or how I was feeling.
I let you use me because I thought what we had was love.
But it wasn't.
You left me with more scars than I'd given myself and that's not okay.
You promised me forever.
But that's not what I got.
Instead I got days full of tiptoeing around on broken glass always worried about upsetting you.
Nights full of tears and razor blades.
And every time you touched me.
Every time you held me down.
I would cry silent tears, wishing to be anywhere else.
I trusted you to put me back together.
But you didn't care about me.
You didn't want to spend your time fixing something that was already broken.
To you I was nothing more than damaged goods.
But you got what you wanted so you were happy.
I thought I loved you.
I thought what you were doing to me was okay.
And that's what scares me the most.
How much more would have happened if I didn't come to my senses?
If I hadn't figured out that what you were doing was wrong?
You.
Ruined.
Me.
