Faults

Her.

Anesthetic. 

That sounds nice right now. 

She is my anesthetic, for my feelings.

I call her, the other me. 

I'm in control of my brain, along with her. 

She's both my friend, and worst enemy. 

Sometimes I wish she would just leave me alone.

On this night, she's lively as ever. 

She's hurting me, telling me things I'd be better off not hearing.

Thinking.

Lost in myself.

I've never been alone. 

I love her.

But sometimes, I wish the abuse would stop.

I miss the times she loved me. 

She still does sometimes. 

Telling me I'm pretty, and worth being loved.

I wished she loved me.

I want to love me.

Quite frankly, neither one us know how to love anymore.