I wanted to forgive you so much that in the process of wanting to forgive you I hated God. In the process of wanting to let go of the hurt I hated myself,I cut myself to direct all my hatred towards you back to myself,I stopped coming across you because I would imagine myself strangling you,I locked myself in a dark room and fight to sleep,I sit in the shower for hours to make myself believe that it washes away all of the things that made me cling to that suffering you gave me. And in all that. In losing myself. In living a near death experience. In hating you at night and in waking up in the morning being able to hate you less. In my silence. In my tear drops. In my rotten wrists. In my living corpse. In all my broken pieces I am afraid that if you open your arms to me I will come running back to those same arms that destroyed my sanity. But no matter what happens that hate is engraved in me because you never were there...you couldn't see the suffering in my eyes and because I had to run from home in order to survive...