I only love things that are bad for me, but self-sabotage isn’t the only thing I’ve inherited from my daddy
I have his sharp tongue, his cold eyes, his stoic expression when he’s upset with somebody
I can make you feel worthless when you disappoint me; like you’re better off dead than being around me
You’d wish that we’d never crossed paths - you’d wish that instead, you chose to walk right past
I can make you feel like a God, or I can devour your soul and rip your self-worth apart
Tear your sense of self to shreds like your existence means nothing; like your life’s not worth living if it’s not me that you’re unconditionally loving
It’s your choice; choose wisely, think carefully.
Are you going to worship me at my feet, blindly agree with me, constantly tell me how you’d be nothing without me?
Or are you going to draw a boundary by choosing yourself, and turn me into the cold-blooded Lilith that I’m programmed to be?
You see, it’s not in my hands, it’s hereditary. A lack of willingness to be better is in my family’s history.
You either love all the toxic patterns which create me or deal with the catastrophic wrath of challenging me.