Depression is my Drug

It Smells Like You

I found a watch you gave me, and it hurts to hold it. I never realized how so much pain can be emitted from such a small object that others find to be unimportant or meaningless. But this watch, you gave it to me when I was a kid. Just like you gave me that knife I wanted, and the board game, the coffee you knew I wasn't supposed to have. You gave me all these things. I've never told anyone this, but I used to think highly of you. I didn't realize what you were doing, I didn't realize that I was being used and manipulated. I didn't realize who you were and what you were capable of. It sounds stupid and my brain doesn't quite comprehend it. I feel stupid for even saying it. But this stupid watch smells like you. And it makes me remember. Not just what you did, but who I thought you were. I remember the memories, those fake memories. All those times you were good to me, all of those fucking lies. I was used. I was played. I was tossed around like a solid rubber bouncy ball, when in reality I was a fragile egg. And now I'm broken.