Toxic.
When I’m with you, your negativity overwhelms the happiness that I have struggled and fought for. It’s disgusting. I tend to drown in unhappiness, and you know this for a fact; however, you would rather claw me into submission with your insatiable need for darkness than respect the fact that I have finally pulled myself out of the black.
I feel obligated to assist you.
But you are poisonous. And despite my boldest attempts to forgive you and dehumanize you and focus on your wounds I can still see your teeth. I wish I could save you, but it’s hard to save something that’s been spiraling out of control for years. I must simply step back and watch instead of being immersed, despite your desperate pleas for my attention. Ironically, everyone who leaves me comes back. But you are the exception to my acceptance. You’re vicious and cruel, and I refuse to permit your toxic lifestyle to taint the joy I scramble to hold together.
Despite the average stereotypes, you’re not a boy, and you’re not part of my family. Go home and spit out your pride. If you try to swallow it, you’ll probably choke.
