I.

lusting after a fake version of him—who she wanted to love—felt like drowning her soul in water—& draining it dry, because her heart couldn’t hold onto the delusion. a hole in her soul sucked up all the affection from him, when she knew he wasn’t real, but it didn’t matter to her. she chose to temporarily fill up the pain over feeling chronically creased; crummy. she didn’t care about the consequences. the world and its rules. none of it mattered to her.

but that was her mistake.

II.

didn’t want to admit that she’d been played. that’s what the feeling was. that’s what the wanting was. she thought he was good—not because he was actually good for her, but because she didn’t want to admit that she was stupid enough to fall for her fantasies again.

fool. she’d played herself again. caught herself in a web of lies again. why hadn’t she listened to logic? she continually fed herself dashes of daydreams, adding more and more delusions on each day, claiming she was okay when there wasn’t a single day she wasn’t drowning. dying. crying. and overdosing on imaginations.