Once upon a fuckin' time, I was porcelain. I was that glass in the palm of your hand. You boxed me up, and labeled me away. You would never watch me shatter to pieces- my leftovers would never reflect back millions of bright lights.
Back then, I said I loved you.
I whispered it, and I screamed it. Moaned it. Smiled it. Said it. Breathed it.
Half way through, whenever half way was, I turned to you at night, you deep in your Z's. I kissed your cheek then your ear. I'd whisper, "God-- help his head to match his heart."
I thought I was doing you a favor. I had never asked God to help anyone but myself.
That I can recall.
Once upon a fuckin' time, I sat in the driveway of my Riverton home. It was dark, and naturally I watched the stars-- why for, I don't know. They weren't fucking going anywhere.
I had decided to be it. To make you forget, to show you the new.
The only thing I managed to do was split you open until you were nothing.
That fucking monster she saw, I see it. It’s under my bed and in the hellish depths of my closet. And so funny now-- I don’t own a closet. There is no such thing as my bed,
One day I used to exist. And then like magic, I disappeared.
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