Fake

Lies trickle slowly, then all at once, pouring over the edges of your lips. A suffocating amount, draining the oxygen in the space around us. My lungs cry, but you won't stop until you've won. I have a flickering hope that my cracked walls will continue to hold you back. Fear slivers down my spine, and my fingertips begin to tingle.
You won't get me this time. You won't.
Gasping, choking.
Is it really that hard, to admit to yourself. It all happened, you can't take it back. You let me break, you watched me bleed. Those tears soaked my face for days, and the mud seeped into my kneecaps. But you didn't pick me up.
It took months to pull myself out of the dirt, to find all the scattered pieces of my being, and tie myself back together.
I was good again. Good, and whole.
You couldn't have that though, could you? You couldn't let me heal, let me breathe.
No.
Cause if I'm not bleeding, then I don't need you. You want me to need you; to be there to take the weight of the world, whenever you don't feel like carrying it. To lay burdened with your words, bruised with your insults.
You'll feel better, while I suffer; take the blame, and burn in your place.
Forgive me, it's because I love you.
Maybe I don't know what love is, but I don't think it's like this....