Chess (In the Darkest Hours)
It took me months to finally pull the trigger because the truth was that I had only brought you happiness when my clothes were scattered on the bedroom floor. You only wanted me when you felt a scorching hole where your heart should’ve been. The bottom line was that you never wanted me; you only needed me when you had desires that you were unable to fill. There was no intimacy, but I always liked to believe we could be more than a casual fuck. I was never oblivious to the facts but a sliver of me always wanted something to stem from these countless emotionless encounters. Maybe if I tore myself apart until I no longer recognized myself you would finally want me; if I gave you the last bit of dignity remaining in me.
Maybe if I gave you the last shred of dignity remaining in me; you would finally want me because that was all you wanted. You wanted to strip me raw until you could find a reflection of the person you should’ve been.
Maybe if I tore myself apart until I no longer recognized myself you would finally want me because maybe I was the problem all along and you were the solution.
You didn’t need me as much as I needed you because you always had someone at the tips of your fingertips. I would always be disposable like every other girl who would come running your way when you wanted them. You wouldn’t miss me if I stopped answering your desperate calls in the crack of dawn. I was only a body for you to use when you grew tired of the others. We were all different chess pieces in this sick game you love to play.
