me, introducing myself: it is i, your local asshole

       I was created                              to strip lungs                               of their breath                      to destroy pretty little things                      and burn them to the ground.                                                  to bring the world to its knees                                                  and hear my name spoken                                                  only in fearful whispers                            I was made to be              to be a monster.

You moved to touch my leg that day but you stopped yourself and I asked you why. You said, “It’s so small,” then you looked up at me like I was something precious you didn’t want to break. I wanted to tell you that I’ve never been broken and that I never will, but then I realised that you could. You could break me. I did feel small then, vulnerable, heart in the palm of your hand. I don’t even know how you got it because I don’t remember giving it. Maybe I don’t even remember having it. The point is, you told me to feel the rise and fall of your chest and I breathed in time to it. The world didn’t shatter around us, but I felt different, somehow. Like an earthquake had taken place inside of me and yet, I was still standing, and you were still there with me.

Blood means nothing                       my family is who I deem it to be.

“youre obsessed with yourself” and youre not??? sad. tragic.