Tonight, I made the tentative leap of faith that I have held back for so long. You reminded me so vividly, so brazenly why I see myself the way I do.  But I am slipping through your folded fingers, falling away from you.

I am not the girl you think you know.

I cannot be who you want me to be.  I cannot fill this impossible cavity and I cannot grow into your mould.  My bones are breaking and I am scraping my knuckles, my elbows, my knees.  I am gritting my teeth for you, every single day.  I am lying to myself, every single day.  And I’m losing myself, bit by bit.

This gutter-trap mindfuck, this thickened soup of sensation is congealing over. I am gasping, whispering bubbles of empty air.  I cannot fucking breathe.

How can I grow if I cannot see the sky?

I have been trying, for so long, to do this for you.  But I understand now that I will eventually do this in spite of you.  And it breaks my heart that it will come to this.

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