It's just a lot of feelings and thoughts that I've been carrying around for too long. It can be a bit too much, especially for people who has experienced domestic abusive, or been suffering from depression


3. Love

You used to be my hero. My savior.

You took my hand and told me that everything was going to be okay.

You kissed my scars and told me that I was beautiful.

You said that you loved me. 

But kisses turned into bruses, and beautiful turned into annoying.

My trust turned into a cage that I was locked up in.

You held my heart in your hand, and you tighten your grab every time I started to slip.

I became nothing, but an object.

An object made only to serve you. To satisfy all of your lust

even when I begged you to stop. 

I thought I knew what love was.

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