My Dear John letter...

You left a bruise on my lip. At first, I liked it. I woke up and saw it, and felt it every time I pressed my lips together. I liked knowing it was there...knowing you had been there. But it's still there...and you are not. Now, when I feel that tiny slice of warm pain, it makes me feel very cold. Now when I look in the mirror, I am mad at myself for letting you leave a mark on me...internally and externally. Fuck you.