You cannot save me.
Even when I tell myself that I trust, I don't. Not really.
Deep down, I'm always waiting for you to leave me. I know you will, everyone always does.
I am easy to leave.
Unloved, unwanted.
You cannot save me.
My head knows that it's wrong, that I'm punishing you for the actions of others.
My heart doesn't listen. You are far too beautiful to want to stay, far too perfect to feel anything but pity for me.
My heart snags on the truth, the truth that has been ingrained in me since I was born: I am not worthy.
I am a waste of space, air, and flesh.
Flesh.
Trapped in this hideous shell, with no escape, no route to another reality. A shell completely representative of what has been mangled and broken on the inside.
You cannot save me.
I will never be saved.
I will never trust, not fully. You could throw love at me; I wouldn't believe it. I would find an alternate reason for your presence.
Why are you still standing here? Don't you know you're worth much more than me? Don't you know that I'll never be what you want, that I'll always be afraid and unsure? That I'll never trust, and you'll never feel like you've done enough?
Don't you know that I'll RUIN you?
You cannot save me. I wish there was a way, but...
You cannot save me.