I don't have the words to do this justice, this broken wrongness you've left me with, but a shadow of myself, a wisp of myself, a faint cry with the light dying in my eyes.

 

I don't have the words to say how much I hate you... love you... love to hate you, and hate to love you; for my voice is hoarse with all this screaming...........

 

My eyes look on as if dead already, just a limp reflection of their former glory, just a story, to be told, to unfold little bits and pieces of my broken self.

 

You are my Heroine, or perhaps I meant heroin, my own personal brand of hell I am addicted to like fire in my veins.

 

I am addicted to you... I meant I love you, love the way you fuck me up on the inside, twist and turn me into knots, and shatter this glass throbbing thing you hold.

 

Over, and over, and over, like you've put our lives on replay, only you forgot it was an old cassette tape and it has played it self out until worn and blurry.

 

Do you smell burning? Do you hear the hoarse voice, begging, pleading for you to stop, as you run the knife across my face to mar my smile, just to paint yours with my blood?

 

I am dripping, and bleeding from the wings you've clipped, twisted and tortured, my soul stained black with the deeds hatred turned me towards.

 

And with this, you smile, and say you have a good life, a good wife, as you watch me lay bleeding on the floor.

 

You think these bread crumbs you dangle, don't mean to strangle, the life from my very eyes, but inside I am crying, and just a little bit dying, at the Monster you have turned me into.

 

This servant, who does your bidding, whose back is so very broken from the bending, to placate and satiate your need... your need....... for what?...

 

Testing, testing, testing, is this thing on, this mic, Can I Not Speak Loud Enough? CAN YOU NOT HEAR ME? when I tell you that this Testing, is breaking me... broken me?

 

That glass throbbing thing, I gave you to hold, to care for, to protect, so that you could learn to love again, learn to live again,..... again, again, again, forgotten, forgotten.

 

I am forgotten... Who am I? What are these trappings I wear, with my painted smile, to hide the pain I am in, for your sake, always for your sake. Never for your sake, for my sake, to just not be shredded any more by that shattered glass throbbing thing in your hand, ripping at my soul, mangling it, dangling it, like some morsel. Am I a good wife, are you enjoying your Life? Ignorant of the thousands of ways you cut me through the day? Have I pandered and placated enough, sacrificed enough, given enough? Are you satisfied, that I have become an object worthy of your hate? Are you satisfied at the monster I have become? The Monster... you have crafted me into? One slice at a time, sliver by sliver, deadening the light in my eyes, until I have become that Cold, Heartless EMOTIONLESS BASTARD, you continue to accuse me of being? I remember when, I was filled with light and life, 6 years, 6 long years of your TESTING, of me living down to you, giving my heart to you, only for you to stamp it out with your own brand of LOVE? Why did you require that I cut myself, mangle myself, disfigure myself, to become something you could love, and only when I was already dead on the inside? Demand more? Only when I was cold on the inside, ask that I live? All the while, continuing to cut me, to ensure that I didn't.

 

Reflections: I don't think I can keep this one up for long, no not for long, not long at all, It contains words I can't admit to myself, can't be allowed to think for the venom in them. Can't be allowed to express for the Sadistic side it caters to, masochistic side it caters to. Dead side it caters to. Rotten putrid flesh, my heart is rotten putrid flesh, to the very core. More mangled then when my father beat me, my mother ignored me. More mangled then all my childhood together, I can't even remember Us starting out, I can't remember because it is so blurry now, a haze, a suppression, of repression, so that I can focus on the now. Just one day at a time I say, take just one day at a time, I tell myself. Enjoy today, because I never know how FUCKED UP tomorrow is going to be. Do I make a good wife? Have you had your fun at my expense? Have you truly enjoyed how badly you have fucked me up? You have broken me more then my childhood ever could or ever would. And your blindness won't let you see, your wistful ignorance. So I let you have your bliss, all the while calling me a liar. I admit I lie, lie to you about how wonderful you are, but not about how much I love you. I never lied about that, even though you can't believe me, couldn't believe me, and your own insecurity drove you to do stupid things, ignorant things, FUCKED UP THINGS, to mangle this corpse before you. To test me, just to see how far before I broke, to drive me away because nothing could love you, but I did, I do, and I can't stop now. You were my Heroine, I saw such beauty in you, I thought I could heal that mess of a mangled corpse the others left you in, I thought I could, but I just replaced it with my own. You put holes in the ship, and now we are sinking, and I am dragging you along with me. It is sad, when you think about it, that I actually have blacked out 3 to 4 years of my life with you because that is how terrible they were, with your testing. Your Love Language back then was cutting, I couldn't show you I loved you unless I took a shard of my own heart, that glass beating, throbbing thing, that used to hum with life, that thing, yes that thing I gave you to hold, of which you put on a pedestal only after you smashed it on the ground and scattered the pieces. They lay on that fallen pedestal in a heap now. I couldn't show you I loved you unless I cut away at my self, disfigured myself, I don't recognize me anymore. The insanity of love, you were my Heroine, the person who life was supposed to be beautiful with, now you are my heroin, a drug as damaging as it is addictive, and I can't bring myself to cut free because I still love you.

 

I still love you, and I slipped, twice I slipped, and now I am trapped in that image of the Monster I have become, the Monster you have made me into. AM I AN OBJECT WORTHY OF YOUR HATE NOW?