I dislike you most when you make it so easy for me to hate myself

I never feel as though I need your approval, your blessing, to seek out my own paths. And I have fallen from my own pinnacles, into depths of rust, ash and failure. I never let you lick my wounds, afraid of the poison in your tongue. I never let you hold my hand, because to the world, it is a loving gesture, but inside the coil of fingers, your talons draw blood from my palms.

To the world, you are innocent, fair and true - but I see past the charade, and have witnessed the monster with the pretty eyes. You are ugly. And I fear, that under your influence, I too have become ugly.

We were inseparable, but over the years I have felt a distance creep between us, a stagnant hatred repelling me from your embraces. And I swallow my words, my calculations and smile as the puppet you designed for me to be.

But ‘tiz the day where I have cut the strings laced into my back. And have removed the stuffing preventing me to speak. I am stronger than what you’d have me be, I have grown in my hatred of you.

But strength is an illusion, as humans we bleed pain, we sweat vexation and cry anguish. We are not impenetrable, like the walls keeping us acquainted.

Your feline eyes scope out my vulnerabilities. And I hate how you pick like multiple vultures upon my carcass heart. I never feel as though I need your approval, your blessing, to be without my disguises. But I dislike you most when you make it so easy for me to hate myself.

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