Toxic

by Nicole Blanchard

There’s less chance of my having the hope of a better life if all the nothingness blurs together.

“You need a shower,” he says. “You look like shit.” Another of his not-so-subtle digs. I swallow my angry retort and tell him I will.

What is broken inside me that I look for love in the worst places? Was it programmed inside me from birth or is it a product of my parent’s neglect? Am I just so fucked up that I’ll take affection wherever I can get it, even if it’s from the worst possible source?