so i guess this is the part where i'm supposed to cry; pretend it hurts, just a little, so that you can still get off on your stupid fucking mind-games. or maybe i'm supposed to laugh, because i know you know this poem is about you.
it was always about you.
ii.
i dredge from my veins this bond that masqueraded as blood. it may have been thicker than water, but it wasn't strong enough to make me fall to you; cut my legs to ribbons, and you will never see me on my knees.