this is everything i didn't say

ninety-nine

past me says I'm sorry for hurting you

and i wave her off, mumble something along the lines of doesn't matter, i deserved it anyway

and she looks at me with something in her eyes that might be pity

like she wasn't expecting that response, like maybe

she was expecting me to be better

and so i look up and hold her gaze for as long as i can bear to and

laugh

and she goes pale

and this is when i know that i have crossed a line

the difference is she cares and i don't

and she looks past me, looks down, looks left, right, up, and finally meets my eyes

and she is scared

and there's nothing i can do about that so why not have some fun

i strip off all the lies and show her everything she hasn't done yet

watch the anxiety creep up in her throat as she watches a play-by-play of how I've torn myself apart

see how her eyes go wide when i lift the hem of my shirt and put my ribs on display for her to see, as if a human being was never meant to be anything more than bones anyway

i read her my poetry and compare it to her diary entries, say look how far you've come

and she shakes her head, tells me this isn't what i wanted, i swear i never meant for it to get this bad, I'm sorry, please forgive me

and i look at her and smile and this time, i am the one who pities her

i take her into my arms and for a second she seems to relax, so i lean in close, press my lips to her ear

and whisper shhh, don't worry,

the worst is yet to come

conversations with my past self // k.