All this savagery reminds me of war zone that I have not been in.
Of a book that makes pain seem beautiful.
All these cuts and bruises I inflict on myself hoping to see myself suffer only to bring me happiness.
When you speak words full of hate I sit and think it's okay because I deserve it.
All your hateful words mean nothing when I tell myself I can do so much more.
Your hateful words become nothing more than endearment to me as I mistake your hate for love.
Abuse is nothing more than a certain kind of love.
Your abuse is my love and I revell in it thinking that this is how it's meant to be .
