I am heart-broken.
I am fragile.
I am nothing, still I am everything.
I like the sight of blood streaming down from my chest,
from the sore that you tore open with your bare hands,
just to ripp my heart out.
I like it.
I like the way I am slighty fading towards hell.
To the burning flames, and the welcoming look on satans face.
I do like it.
I like the way you spit in my face before you left with my dead heart in your pocket. The way you kicked me and hurt me by horrible words.
I enjoyd it.
I like the way I know you treated me like an animal. Used me. Killed me.
The way you fucked me and screamed the other girls names. The way you didn't care for me. The way you made me love you. The way you made me believe I would die without you. Well, it worked. Now I am dead. You stole my heart, you stole it. You tore my chest open and stole it. My heart, not yours. I am no longer a human, just a dead body. I'm nobody.
I Love it.