Going Back

There is this hole in my chest. I think it is where the happiness used to be, but its gone and I am being drowned with the overwhelming power of my own emotions. I can feel that little pull in my stomach again. I feel the urges that I haven’t felt in quite a sometime and my vision has gone white. Relapsing, I am finding, hurts much more than where you were when you stopped. It may be because after all that time in the darkness I had found some light. I could finally smile without carving it into my face. It was a real smile that could remind my body that everything was good, was happy, but the light inside drained. It drained like I had been punctured all over and it was beyond ready to move on to it’s next subject. My mind has currupted all of the rays of light and it’s all becoming darkness again. Now my body is filled with nothingness. This time, it is not just mentally that I feel hurt and exhausted but physically. Every move I make and my body feels like it hasn’t been fed in weeks. It is as if all of my muscles know not what there fuction is and cannot manage to keep me upright. I am falling faster than ever before and I don’t think my body is going to have the strength to pull me out of the hole this time. My mind is running in circles. Constant thoughts of him suffocate me and they are keeping me up at night. I wish I could make them stop. It hurts so badly to think, to remember all of these painful memories. My skin is itching. I hate this feeling. I have never felt so desperate for a release. Old habits hit hard and I begin to vomit up all of the flowers that he has planted in my stomach, but they don’t come back the flowers they started as. They are poisoned and dying. They leave such a terrible taste in my mouth and I attempt to throw back the devil’s juice but all it leaves is the bitter taste of him on my lips.

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Used

All I wanted was to be wanted. To feel like I was important to someone. And I still do, but I am comfortable with myself to not need someone’s attention to function. I was wallowing in my self-pity and I thought the only way to not be lonely was for people to pay attention to me, and trust me, I have manipulated myself to be able to get exactly that, but I am finally pulling myself out of that dark hole of despair. The best part is that as soon as I can finally do that for myself, someone decides to prohibit my progression. I wanted you to need me and you didn’t, but as soon as I can move on, you say you need me. If your goal wasn’t to drag me right back into that wretched confinement you are doing a horrendous job of showing it. It feels like every time I am ready to walk away you pull me back and I am forced to start from the beginning all over again. I am exhausted with your endless games and I would just like to take a rest. Stop using me then throwing me away. I know after this you are going to push me back to the side like you always have and I am going to wait there patiently until I am just ready to fix myself. Which will be conveniently right before you “need” me again. I am so over being used. Like I said before, I will not stress my life to be a crutch for yours.

Consumed

I feel sick. The last time I felt like this it ended worse than I could ever have imagined. Last time I felt this sick I was left with a scar on my wrist that looks like a line terminating my existence. But, yet again, here I am. Nine years. Nine years between us and somehow we have managed to make this out of our lives. Two days and you make me think about every waking moment of my existence and question every choice I have ever made. Is this my fault? My stomach feels like it is consuming itself and someone’s hand is reaching down my throat to stop it. I am alone in this and I do not know how I got here. You are kind. You are sweet. But even the day I become legal I am the same person that I am just the day before. One day does not change me. So why is it then and only then that we can be? I do not think this can work but for some reason, I cannot say no. This is my fault. I got myself into the situation. You do not make me sick. I make me sick. I am repulsed by the thought that I can be so ignorant and so willing. Though you are okay with this I am not. But I will not tell you that because I am weak. I will continue and wait until I become so sick of the thoughts going through my head and you decide that whatever this is cannot work. It is always me. I will always get myself into this. I am my own problem. I am my own worst fear. I am sorry just as sorry as I will be when we end this. I am sick and I do not know if I can live with it.

Afraid of Me

I wish I could take in the little moments of release again…like I used to. My entire body is tense. I shake like I overdosed on caffeine. Still, I cannot relax. I soon as I get the chance I feel guilty. Should I feel Guilty? Something keeps eating away at my soul and I am losing myself. Forgetting who I used to be. Forgetting the happy I used to feel. What is happening to me? I am eternally exhausted and I am afraid you can see it from the outside. I am afraid I might treat them different because I am different. I don’t want to hurt them. They deserve so much more. They all do. Am I worth this pain. Is life worth this pain. I cannot breathe anymore. Someone has reached into my chest and is pulling at everything there. Why? Why can I not stop them? Why am I still here? I am not afraid of them…I am afraid of me.