Whatever. 

Fucking whatever. 

It’s so damn obvious 

that I was never supposed to be. 

So you opened my eyes

To the hypothetical 

Of what I “could have been”

If it was better

Or different 

Or fair. 

But it’s not. 

And I never will be that. 

I’m just me. 

And me

Is not worth

The blood

Dripping down

My thigh. 

I just need to figure out

How to undo

This game you played

With my head. 

Get back to me. 

To what I really am. 

And we all know

What that is. 

Or maybe I’ll get lucky 

And never have to know 

What happens 

Next.