Gone

What do you do when you realize there is nothing to look foward to? I was so happy everytime I got to go home. Happy for a break, happy for my friends, happy for my family. Now I feel as though I’ve become so seperate from them. I’m almost afraid to go back for so long. I’m afraid I am no longer the me that loved them. No longer the me that spent her time loving every moment around them. It hurts so much to think of all that I have lost being away but it hurts so much more going back to everything I have given up.  Leaving is exactly what I needed to do for myself. No one here looks at me with expectations. They don’t look at me like I’m damaged. They don’t look at me with judgment or like I’m a role model. They don’t look at me like I need to be perfect. I needed to get away from that. To learn to let go and to learn to think without them. I am not happy here, but I am much more happy here than I am thinking about going home. It has been far to long and the wounds in my heart are still stinging with every memory that surfaces. I just want to cease to exsist for a while. To just seperate myself from this world and observe it in all of its beauty. To see their lives without me. Can I just escape it all? I am a whole new person. I am a whole person. I don’t know who I am at home anymore and I don’t know if I will be able to handle that.

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Winter

My eyes are watering but I’m going to blame it on the fridged air. I know it’s cold out but I won’t put on a jacket. My hands are stinging but I refuse to put them in my pockets. I want this numbness more than I want sleep. It sounds stupid but I want the cold to crawl through my skin and freeze my chest from the inside out. I want frost to build over the flowers there so they cease to grow. I want to hollow my chest and open it up like the bleeding sky. The world moves even when my desires attempt and stop it. Removing any significance that my body had been given, my heart had been given, my life had been given. There is no end in sight for what seems like an inescapable void. I decide to lay in the grass and watch as the sky moves above me. My limbs slowly disappearing into the earth beneath me. Becoming unaware myself and everything I am. Letting my world go before I come crashing back down. Spiraling into reality and all of its painful inconveniences.

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.

After Effects

You’ve left a hole in my chest. Much to big for the silence to fill. I am trying to fill in with empty words, empty smiles, empty love but it soaks into the surroundings like water soaks into the sand. There is a space in my head that is only filled with you. The smallest bank of words swelling to occupy the rest of my mind. I knew where this was going far before it began, and I let myself fall into this darkness. The only eyes I see are yours. Every face I look at, all I see is you. You have released me from your burden but I am holding on so tight for I am afraid that if I let go, I will fall to the ever growing depths of my not so solid ground. I have carved you into the wounds on my skin. The only thing that gave me relief from you now pollutes my blood with the remembrance of what could have been. Why am I like this? I put too much of my heart into things when I leave my head behind. I remind myself that is all temporary but once it fades I continue to break anyways. You held the entirety of my soul without even knowing it and now you have left it lying on the ground. I have found myself worthless without you to give me a purpose in this world. Your smile moves mountains inside of me but it is no longer reserved for me. I dug myself another hole and I don’t think I have the energy to pull myself out this time.

Entangled in you

I am so worried about you. All the god damn time. Then I go from being worried about you to convincing myself that you are better off without me. That your life is better without me in it. I can’t choose and I can’t decide which one I would rather. I think I may be projecting what I feel onto your body. I do not see what is really you. I see that I am hurting being away from you and hoping you feel the same way. I am missing you like crazy. You probably don’t think about it at all in your day, but you are always on my mind. I am happy right now. I don’t want you to think that I’m not. I really am enjoying myself. I just think about you a lot. I think about you every time I dance and I wish you were behind me with your hands on my waste. I think about you every time I lay in bed and wish your legs were tangled in mine. I think about you when its quiet and wish the silence was filled with your voice. It is like my pillow is made of you and as soon as my head hits it you enter my dreams. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. No matter how much I enjoy myself, you are always there. In the back of my mind. Reminding me of what I am missing. As much as I wish you felt the same way, I hope you aren’t hurting like me. I hope your heart doesn’t ache every time you think about our last night together. As much as I want to be the one, I hope you find someone to fill you heart with joy and love and that reminds you every day how much your worth. You deserve so much and I hope, even if it isn’t me, that you find that.

Giving Yourself

Have you ever held something in your life so important that you could never think about losing it? Something that feels so perfect that you could never imagine it breaking? Me too. It built me. It carried me when I couldn’t walk. I held it closer to my heart than any part of my own self, but now I can barely hold it in my hands without it crumbling to pieces. I think I might have held it too tightly. I didn’t mean to, but it is turning to dust. Or is that ashes? Did it burn? Am I the one that burned it. I tried. I tried really hard to take good care of it, but it has turned into something not even I recognize. Something I held so dear has turned into something so toxic for me. The soot from the fire is clouding my eyes and I can no longer see the destruction it is causing in my life. It is burning my lungs and is coating the walls in darkness. I think it is trying to destroy me. This thing that I loved so dearly is becoming my most painful memory, but I cannot let it go. My arms are chained to its foundation. Detaching yourself from emotions, they say, is bad for you, but if I am about to be demolished I do not want to feel anything for this thing that caused it. I do not want any love left for this thing that has torn my soul to pieces. I loved it. I didn’t leave it on a shelf. I carried it in my pocket and showed everyone how beautiful it was. I was so proud of it and now everyone will watch it ruin me. It is turning me inside out and allowing the world to see the most vulnerable parts of me before consuming them into the darkness of its grasp. There is no leaving and there is no going back. I am learning that love can only be toxic. There is no version of love, for me, that is not there to destroy. I give my whole self to love and when it succumbs to the darkness there is nothing left for me. Nothing left in this lifeless human shell. I willingly gave myself to it and I must suffer the consequences.

Soul Searching

I just had a very…existential moment.For a moment my life vanished. All of my memory was gone and all I could think was…well I am not really sure. I am terribly confused because I am not sure what I am feeling. I know my stomach is turning and I feel as though I may be sick, but I cannot tell you what this sensation is. I feel like I am breathing fresh air. Like I am being given a clean start. Even though it is close to freezing outside, I feel as though it is one of those spring days when the whole world feels right. Like clean sheets hanging on a clothesline being dried by a pleasant breeze. Like that one song I had on repeat the summer that I was 12. Like Easter when Mom would open all of the windows in the house while she was cleaning. Like those late nights in the summer when we were in elementary school. I am so terribly confused because these are all of the best feelings that could ever come to mind, but I feel so unsteady. Tears are steadily streaming down my face and they have no intention of stopping. This isn’t one of those reminiscing moments. I have had those. I know what those feel like. This is not that. I feel like my soul is somewhere else. I do not feel like me. I do not know where I have gone. The worst part of having these feelings at 3 am is that there is no one to talk to about them. I am on my own.  It is so hard to write what I am feeling when I don’t even know. All I know is that tonight my hip isn’t going to be enough.

The Polluted Waters

I have spent a very long time trying to pull myself out of that dark corner of my mind. Years of dipping my feet into the water as the shadows entangle themselves around my ankles barely able to resist the temptation to pull me in. And sometimes there was no resistance. Some days I was pulled into the deep end with no strength to fight back. But as the tide began to lower, I found the ability to pull myself out of the shallow. for a little while, the dark pool had dried up. there was no more lake of tainted water. Just the stains left on the empty pit. It was gone and my mind was left peaceful. Today, It overflowed. the pool filled back up faster and darker than ever. This time I didn’t have to go to the water, it came to me. Its hunger reached for me and yanked me to the bottom. My arms and legs flailing. My lungs pounding, begging for someone to pull me out, but no one can see. No one can see the chains clasped around my ankles, the ropes around my wrists, causing them to bleed. No one can see the blood-soaked sleeves of my shirt, the water pouring into my lungs. They don’t see anything because the shadow forces my smile. My smile is a cloak hiding my pain from the outer world. I have tried everything I have ever know to escape from this hell, but its hold is stronger than it has ever been. I can no longer breath. My lungs are being flooded with the darkness from that corner of my mind. I am slowly, painfully drowning in my own thoughts, my own fear. I was a fool to think I could ever escape this. I was a fool to think the shadows wouldn’t someday take over my entire mind, my entire body. My blood is polluted with the corrupt emotions my mind is feeding me. My blood is begging to be spilled. Begging to be released from my body. I am begging to be released. I am afraid where this might end.

Drained

I drink in the world. Moment by moment I soak it all in through the wounds it has given me. I see the world like a passer by sees someone else’s life. I am always looking in. I see the pain. I see the happiness. I see the anger in every one else. I sit on the sidelines to watch how their life plays out. It could be me avoiding my own stage, but I would rather watch someone else’s success than my own. I would rather listen to their voices than have one of my own. A long time ago, mine was stolen. Stolen by the ones that caught my words as they crossed the threshold of my lips into the frozen air. They held them in their palms as they decided whether to warp them to their benefit or to crush them into nothing more iportant than the dust settling on your picture frame. You have given me a reason not to be a reason. I only gave you the most beautiful words that my mouth could form in hopes that they would heal the wounds on your skin. The wounds that only turned out to be a reflection of my own. You projected my pain onto your body because you knew I could not avoid the attempt to heal. I gave myself, all of myself, away. To the many that could not fill themselves. Now I am left with the draining effects. Their is no more love to distribute nor feelings to play host for an unwelcome heart. I gave you mine to be an additional link on the chains binding yours together. By the time I realized that I was only giving you the armor to  shield yourself you had already begun to scavenge through my body’s foundation brick by brick. I gave myself to you and you only kept taking.

Relapse

Its presence haunts me. Like the wounds it causes. Every move you make is a reminder of its company. I have not looked at it for a very long time. For the last time I did, it almost cost me my life. The weight of it stings my skin with just the thought. I have not looked at it in a very long time but for some reason I cannot let it go. I picture it my head resting in the small container holding it. Confining its power so it cannot weild me. But still, my mind is constricted with the thought. Darkness spilling out of gaping veins that it has yet to open. My body shakes with the expectance of what might happen if my head cannot resist the thought of its cold touch. The same cold touch that freezes everything with in me. The same cold touch that causes me to solidify like a sculpture made of ice, shattered with a simple touch, that melts from its fractures. My eyes cannot shift from the memories it has left on my body. My fingers run over the white lines and I read their stories like brail. There is a feeling of absence when their is no irritated lines to break up the picture. There is a feeling of emptiness when there is numbness in the skin that is a product of my past. There is and urge to reach for the light that reflects off of it. But my skin begins to itch because it knows what is coming. My eyes fill with the clouds I have stolen from the sky to fill my soul and I can no longer see the outline of my own hand. My body fights the war that I have put it through. Though it knows that when the battle begins my mind will win. This is not a beautiful story. This story ends in blood soaked soil drowning me when I cross the battlefeild. This story is not beautiful. Because my body’s screams are like the screaching of tires across the hard asphalt. My sunken in cheeks consume the rest of my face. My feet refuse to carry a cavernous body that has become a home for the mosters within it. I am fighting against my own body and we all know what that leads to. No metaphor can make that hole 6 feet deep any prettier than the insects already decorating its walls.