i want to rip you to shreds in our imessage chat, but i’ll write here instead. i haunt you like a ghost, i know i scare you at least that much. my best friend is right when she says i don’t deserve you. you don’t deserve me. in all my feminine glory. the feminine urge this, the feminine urge that. i can rip you to shreds, hell, i want to right now. just to feel something i rip myself to shreds. i tear my torso in half the only way i know how. pulling out my teeth one by one, these blood promises i will make with you. this is something sacred, i am something sacred. i am a woman to love. i am something to believe in and you’re the worst kind of superstitious.  i am not a woman to stand at your door with my heart in my hand and tell your mother that “these are the only remnants of you.” i am devotion in a human form. i am not the witch you hunt. i am not the girl you are bound to, she is and she’s not even sleeping in your bed. she hasn’t since last october. those two weeks did me some good. you are boring and plain and i sparkle and shine. i am the glimmer of light and the stars in your eyes. since december,  it has always been me. there is something i saw in you, and i would let it kill me to find out it was true. you are nothing but a lie, i think you always have been. i will carve you open this time instead, and i create the perfect crime. immortalized in this prose, they will remember you this way instead. you chose this, remember that. fuck leaving you alone,  i’m coming for your blood, and i’ll sit in front of your bones and drink it like cherry wine. you’re not fucking allergic, it all tastes metallic to me. i create the story here, i am the writer. in this one, i am the butcher. boy, you’re just the fucking lamb.