you were reaching for someone else right through my ribs and spine. you had no problem clawing through my skin and carelessly shoving aside my organs as if you owned me. as if i hadn't been licking my own wounds clean for the past five years. and afterwards when you tasted of her you had no problem watching me try and sow back the skin you'd ripped through. i kept tugging at your sleeve even though i knew you hated it, but i couldn't play the supporting role in your story because in mine you're the entire fucking plot. i let your teeth slice my lips open then watch you down a bottle of vodka like you couldn't wait to forget the taste of my tongue against yours. i pretended i didn't see you watch her walk down the street instead of holding my hand and i pretended you didn't have to turn the lights off to love me. i tried so hard to be her. i tried to scratch off every fiber of my being by digging my nails into my forearm and turn myself into something im not. and after i'd light your cigarette i'd turn and hold the lighter to my wrist thinking i could melt off the needy, little girl i was. i convinced myself you loved me back because we shared a bed at night and call me a fool because in the morning i always woke up alone. i swore i'd cut a hole right through my chest so you wouldn't have to dig so hard, but i knew you always liked a challenge and i knew you always reached for her because i was never a challenge.
