J.T. Raptor
Stories (1/0)
It’s Not Me, It’s You
I don’t know you. I’m not sure that I ever did. I know a fictional character you made up for me, but he’s gone now, the memories I have of him tarnished by the person you really are. In these moments I try to reflect on happiness, but he’s draped in narcissism with shimmering hints of insecurity against the cold black of your ego, his soothing voice replaced with your shrieks of my inadequacy. He reeks of your emotional abuse and codependency. His eyes, those eyes; once a forest I could easily wander in for hours reduced to nothing more than dismal pools, swirling all the time and passion I wish I could take back for myself. It’s almost as though I can see the pieces of myself I’ve given up trapped in the depths never to return.
By J.T. Raptor6 years ago in Humans