metaphors can't save me.

There you were, once again.
It was late, as usual.
And you just had to show up.
I peered up from what i was doing and there you were, staring me down.
Intimidating as hell.
You crept towards me, your eyes stared deeply into mine, as though you were reading my every though.
You pushed me back into the corner of the dark room.
What had once seem like such a cluttered room now seemed way too empty and spacious.
You continued to stare me down, scaring me to death.
You spit in my face
and told me everything I already knew.
"You're worthless."
"You'll never be good enough."
"Don't get your hopes up."
You hovered inches from my face and told me you wouldn't be leaving until you got everything you wanted from me.
So, you took what you wanted and with one more dirty look you left.
And there I was, once again.
In a cluttered room.

Stop trying to save me, I don't need your help.
I can do this on my own.