You tried to ignore me again, scrolling right past. But your thumb paused for long enough on my too familiar name.

I know you saw me.

Later that evening in a melancholy light, you study your face once more with those deep brown eyes. Why do you seem to get uglier each day?

Wet eyes lead to streams of black, marking my territory on your face.

Now’s a daily struggle to keep me out of your mind that I own. My words like sweet sonnets you can't stop reading. They hurt; but you still drink like a thirsty dog after a long walk.

You wonder what I want from you; but all i want is for you to hurt. I want you to soak your pillows at 4am, then stare lifelessly at the ceiling for the rest of the night. Then go to class the next day looking half dead, half dead. I want people to stare at you, and whisper. And I want it to hurt.

Who am I? I’m the monster you made.

**ominous music**