Title: love and other lies.

Rating: M.

Summary: Now you're convulsing, and since when were you bleeding? You've been scratching at your arms so badly there is blood all over the floor. Goodbye baby, I don't love you anymore.


It's so strange, isn't it?

That constriction in your chest as you try so hard to breathe. Your heart is hammering inside that big cage, killing you from the inside, but you still can't even gasp. Your muscles are losing oxygen now and you feel so weak. No, it's not love or some stupid thing like that. This is hate. Pure, devoted hate. It's beautiful to you in some ways. Because, well, you wouldn't be you if you were actually happy.

Who would they have to push around then? Who would they have to control now? You know your just their little puppet being bent to their will. Have fun baby, because this is as good as it gets for you.

It's constricting again, this time tighter. You almost, almost, almost want to breathe. Your body, big, fat, disgusting body is screaming for it. But you refuse to listen. Because they haven't told you to breathe yet. Haven't said you can share their air yet. Because you're so pathetic. So very, very pathetic.

They pick on you a lot, don't they honey? It's okay because I'm here for you, and I'll never let you go. Do you like hearing those words? So comforting and beautiful. I used to love them too. But almost every single time, they just up and vanish. Goodbye, don't let the razor slip too deep next time. Baby, I love you. I hate you. Hate, hate, hate. Why aren't you good enough? What's your excuse?

Go this way, walk like this, stand like this, act like this, be this. You are not given a choice in the matter. Stop breathing. Just stop, because your not worth the air. You want to know they're kidding, cause they do actually love you, right? Right..?

And it's gone again, just like that.

Now you're convulsing, and since when were you bleeding? You've been scratching at your arms so badly there is blood all over the floor. Goodbye baby, I don't love you anymore.

It's fading now, and for once it's almost... peaceful. Maybe you'll find acceptance in the next life?

But then there's banging on the door, the only thing that seperates you from them. All the liars that tell you that you're beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, amazing because they're all lies! The liars are picking you up, or trying too. You're far too heavy for them to lift. They always call you fat. When the yell at you, all you can do is cry because that chance is gone and they're going to make you live on as their puppet. Your punishment for acting this way, trying to escape, is this.

They will never understand and you just want to live and be happy. Is it ironic that you think this as you're dying on the ground of a bathroom? Maybe, but you know it's true. You can't be happy. This is you, and you don't deserve happiness. You're not good enough for it and yo never will be.

It's so strange isn't it?