Sometimes I wish I could break you into a million pieces. My mind is fucked up when it wants to be. Because in my head, I see you writhing on the concrete with blood just spilling out of your mouth and it’s just not enough.

You fucked me up so badly that physical pain is a fucking relief instead of causing any damage. You fucked me up so badly that wounds are a form of liberation. But I got better. I grew out of blaming myself for your mistakes.

I’d break you if I could. 

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