Black Book

I am loyal, but I will betray you. I am strong, but I have scars. I am an angel, but the devil. I met her when I was 16 and she was a breath of fresh air. She swooped in, making me smile. But then she left, taking my next breath with her. Her smile could light up a room, making my black heart pitter patter. I found her again 10 years later, with a syringe in her arm. Blood coming from between her legs. She was broken and I was glad she was broken. She wouldn't think less of me and my damaged ways.

A wound to the heart, a hole so deep. Can it be fixed? Or simply replaced? People lie. Those closest to me, tell the most lies. Do they not know who I am? What I'm capable of? Sometimes I wonder if they do. Because when I unravel their lies, they will be delivered to the hell I once visited. And it won't be pleasant.

Everything changes, in seconds, minutes, hours. I know, it happened to me. It wasn't for the better, it was for the worst. I am broken, no that doesn't sound right, I am chipped. Pieces of me have been chipped so bad that it's impossible to claim them back. Even if I want to, even if it's for her.