You hurt me, so I killed you. With liquor and smoke and strange beds that smelled of honeyed perfume. I performed autopsies on your corpse, presented dissertations on all the reasons you had to go. I buried your body in “I don’t care"s and “leave me alone"s, with instructions on how to forget you. But even after death, you lived on in my fears. So I killed you again, and kept killing you, over and over. But it never got any better.
this is your story (h.t.)














