It’s 4am. You knew I needed you.

Thanks for not fucking

coming home. 

This is the third time you’ve fucking prioritized

your needs in emergency

situations when I needed you most.

Today is different. Not only did you not

drop everything, you didn’t drop anything.

I’m not uncertain you won’t be there for me.

I know you won’t be there for me.

That’s the sad fucking reality. 

The best metaphor I can explain you is this.

You place me in the corner and let me

collect dust. It’s only until I’m

making a big fuss and I’m crying do

you realize I fucking exist and pull me out the

corner to play with me to basically

shut me up. Once I’m semi happy you

put me in the corner again to

collect more dust. I cry in there.

It’s dark and lonely.

I don’t like the corner. 

I cry and cry and only until I’m

making a scene you’ll do enough to

shut me up then put baby in the corner again. 

Rinse and repeat. 

Rinse and repeat.

Rinse and fucking repeat.

It’s manipulative. It hurts. You

only makes time for me when I’m at my

wits end with you. It’s cruel 

Everyone has no idea what you can be like. The

nights I fall asleep crying. The feeling of neglect.

The emotional cage you locked me in night

after fucking night.

I think the hardest pill to

swallow lately is you never truly cared about me.

I found myself begging for the

bare minimum of a fucking human being,

the bare bones of someone to give a shit.

Instead all I got was

gaslighting, manipulation and gross neglect.