Someone always loses in the end. It may not be a battle to begin with, but a sense of self is always lost. 

An old habit someone else told you to get rid of, despite how attached you were to it. A type of dress, a type of speech. Fragments of the person you were suddenly begin to disappear, only to fit the standards of someone who may or may not stay in your life. Sometimes, a better person is scraped out of the mold, and sometimes, we're with the opposite; a shell. 

The ladder is me. I am the shell. I am a ghost of what I thought was love. 

I am the monster that he created. 

I am the monster that many tried to fix. 

I am the monster that walks around aimlessly, searching for a meaning to all of this mess. 

This is my story. This is my healing. This is my remembrance. 

Thank you so much to BabyCopGurl and charred from Luxicity for the amazing artwork!