I don’t know where I begin

and where you end.

I don’t know what my flaws are

and what problems you caused me.

I choke on air,

because you made me believe it was toxic.

I swim in blood,

because you made me believe it was safer.

You wove yourself into my veins

by constantly pricking me with a needle

while I screamed endlessly.

Gasping for air,

seeing nothing but a haze,

and you made me believe I was exaggerating.

I had to adjust,

because nothing was wrong with you.

I had to change

to make everyone happier.

Here I am,

breathless and swimming in blood,

with wounds all over my body.

Even though I’ve torn myself free

from everything you did to me,

I still believe

the air is toxic,

that blood is safer,

and my wounds aren’t as deep as I think.

So what are the problems I got from you,

and what are my own flaws?

And where do I end

and do you begin?

It’s as if I’ve become you

inside my own body.

Together, entwined as one.

One day I will pull myself free.

On that day I will breathe again without thinking the air is toxic.

I will swim in water

and know that blood is not meant to feel safe.

I will decide for myself

how much my wounds hurt.

Then I will be myself again

and know where I begin and end,

for then you will have been completely washed away from me.