Holyboots
I'm a shipwreck stranded on a rocky coast.
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Sore
Am I different?
Am I the person that will change the mundane?
Releasing pieces of information
Without so much to gain?
I am the person, walked on, and crept
Falling. Bending over backwards
Calculating each step
Biding my time just for you
Yet your toying my heart
And playing me for two
I can’t lay my soul to bare
You’re a deviant siren
And I’m nothing to compare
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Darkness
I sent this to my ex back in 2009. And it embodies how I feel right now.
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The darkness surrounded her. It wrapped itself around her body sheathing her skin from the pain that struck her to the core replacing it with nothingness. She smiled in a blissful sense, closing her eyes and sucking in the torrid air. The voices that engaged in meaningless conversation were drowned out by a swirl of realization that creped to her door and knocked softly. She let it in and now her mind was swimming in a pool of illusions. Her screams reverted from the walls and back to her ears. The faceless people around her were unperturbed by the slight disturbance and their chattering never waned. Unnoticed, she slid away from the eyeless crowd as she tried to find the quiet of her mind.
Her eyelids fluttered shut and she laughed as she engaged the darkness in a dance. Her body flowed fluidly through the air; her feet struck the ground in delight. She giggled mercilessly and swung her arms in every direction. No matter where she flailed the darkness was with her, soothing her, taking away her pain. She could feel it digging it’s fingers within her soul trying to unearth her fear. She smiled and whispered her thanks in a giggly bliss.
But the darkness was trying to take over her. She handed over the controls and the darkness rewired her brain. She belonged to the darkness. She was of the darkness. And she could never come back.
She couldn’t stop herself. She could feel hot tears stream down her face as she pleaded with the darkness to let her go. But the darkness would not comply. It shaped her to it’s own desire and she was a part of the nothingness she longed for. Her body spun wildly and no longer was she alone in the quiet but now she saw the faceless people surrounding her. If their beings could see she would know all of their eyes were on her. They talked fiercely among each other. Some spoke of helping the girl while others spoke with malice. But as quickly as they appeared, they were gone and the girl was left with the quiet. The darkness was grabbing even tighter upon her and her vision was swallowed by the dark.
Beneath her body were thorns. They bit her skin and drew her blood but she could not feel it. Her fingertips were covered crimson and she lifted them to her lips.
“Monster,” she whispered, smiling. The darkness no longer surrounded her but was now a part of her. It grabbed her soul and buried itself deep within it. She could no longer feel the pain that threatened to devour her heart. She repeated the word, familiarizing herself with every syllable. Her eyes brimmed charcoal pools, devoid of any feeling. Her smile was sharp and cannibalistic in nature. Any trace of the girl she once was was erased with the rest of her humanity. The darkness evolved demoniacally and clutched what was left of her broken heart, squeezing away at the rest of her life.
She screamed.
She screamed at the faceless people.
She screamed at the darkness; the quiet inevitable.
She screamed at what she could not hold close.
She screamed at love.
She screamed at beauty.
She screamed at herself.
And what she had become.
Her body filled with anxiety and pain that blocked out the darkness and the nothingness. In her mind she knew that the darkness could never truly get rid of the hurt; running away was never an option. She cried grueling tears of blood. Her soul poured unto the cold, concrete earth. She was left with not only the blistering pain but a heart in tatters. When her blood wore thin and she could no longer cry, she got back on her feet. The quiet was no longer her safe haven and she was forced to retreat back into the faceless crowd where her presence wasn’t welcome nor noticed. The screams echoed through the pit of empty conversations and no one gave the girl a second glance. Not even when burning tears trailed down her face. Not even when the familiar darkness loomed closely overhead.
And again she longed for nothingness.
The world is falling.
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Ragdoll 2
Oh Ragdoll
I know you can’t breathe
They whisper lies in your ear
And you want so badly to believe
But they tear down your walls
And open your scars
Replacing battered bricks
With unforgiving bars
So instead of hiding
Behind your great wall
You reach for what you can’t have
Because they expect you to fall
Little Ragdoll
Can’t you see you’re coming apart
They’re ripping your cloth
They’re breaking your heart
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Ragdoll 3
Sweet Ragdoll
Watch them play their game
And when they lay down the pieces
They are fixing for their own gain
The table is set
And the cards are drawn
Oh little Ragdoll
It’s your heart they pawn
And your cries don’t matter
As they laugh in mirth
They’re measuring your quality
They’re betting on your worth
And you bite back a scream
As they reach towards the bend
Does it really even matter
What comes out in the end?
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They never give you answers
As they stare down at you
Cold blooded
All gloom
They don’t give you any reasons
But they tie your hands with rope
Your meaning is slipping down the pedestal
Crushing softly beneath their heels
You’re not safe
In this city of ice
And they won’t stop
Until your soul is in their palms
Squeezing
Tearing you apart
You
You are nothing
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Worse?
I can’t feel.
Not a damn thing.
I think this is better but I can never tell. I’m trying to suppress the emotions. The negative and the good. And not letting anything bother me. I’m trying. But I can’t tell if it is worth it.
But another thing has popped up and not I feel like the worst, worthless person in the world.
And how the hell do I come back from that? How do I tell myself it’ll be ok.
It won’t.
Suppress.
Everyone is going to hurt you.
You deserve it.
And maybe one day it will be useful to you and the pain doesn’t constantly haunt you. But I never see that happening. I can’t stop seeing myself as nothing. Isn’t it fair that at the same time I feel nothing?
It’s confusing me, and I can’t think anymore and it is killing me deep inside. And I like that. And hate it.
I can’t fucking think.
I don’t know what I fucking feel.
I just want to feel nothing so nothing is complicated.
If people are going to hurt me then why bother giving them any part of me. Any piece of me.
But at the same time, is it even worth it.
What’s to protect?
I guess I really am on my way to not caring.
Not as blissful as I thought it would be but it’s painless.
Whoever said they’d rather feel pain then nothing at all was an idiot. They have never felt pain and I hope one day to completely kill that capability.
Am I doing this right?
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You know it’s funny the things that seem to happen, that crash down, all at the same time.
How was I to expect anything would be different? How was I supposed to know that this time, people would care?
I didn’t.
Because being hurt your whole life doesn’t just mean to wipe the slate clean and try to rebuild. Because I’ve tried rebuilding. I’ve tried covering these holes in my heart. And still they grow larger.
It should have helped seeing the worry in my friend’s eye or hearing both of my best friends telling me they won’t leave.
That should have helped.
But it didn’t.
Is it really wrong of me to want to fix myself? I know I let it get out of hand. I feel the symptoms, I know the pain that makes me want to end it all. I get how scary that is for people. I get that I matter. It has taken me this long, but I get it. But is it so wrong of me to hide? Is it so wrong of me to put others first, and not let them in on my pain? Is that so selfish? I didn’t think anything was wrong, at first. I thought I was victim of circumstance, and I was depressed because of the events unfolding around me. I saw myself as strong. I saw myself as being able to get through it. I didn’t want to be dependent on the medication. I wanted to be able to be free through my own doing. I wanted to be me.
And a fat load that has done. I’m back to square one. I may not be on the floor, crying and screaming at empty walls. I may have kept the temptation of self harm off of my shoulders and firmly believe that suicide isn’t an option. But at what cost? I’m alone and I have let the people who care about me worry and even become angry at me. I know I’m horrible at letting out my emotions, I see that. But now I’ve seen how far down I have truly come and I can’t help but think, “If I get better, if I get the right medication to be me again, will it ever fix the broken bridges I have torn down?”
Today was the worst. I thought I would be fine, with my appointment tomorrow, only to realize that I don’t have insurance and my father would rather have me wait than spend 100 dollars on me. Is that what I’ve become? An expense? He didn’t want me to talk to any one, assuming, because of the money. But when it really matters, when I need it, he can’t come through because he can’t save a dollar? And he doesn’t have time? Even though shortly after talking to him, he yelling at me, I see tags of him on the boat, laying out in the sun.
It’s one thing, when the people in my life leave me, but it’s another when your father can’t spare the time to get on the phone and call the health insurance for 10 minutes.
He doesn’t know that my depression has gone back to stage 1 and for good reason. I don’t need him calling me dramatic when that was the reason I avoided it in the first place. I am dramatic. And now I need help and I pushed away the one person who actually pushed back. I don’t deserve it in the first place. I let my emotions get the best of me, and that’s not needed.
So to say that I can’t breathe today would be a very huge understatement. I’m literally choking. My skin is prickly and I may pass out at any given moment. I have cried for the first time since summer, and I have suppressed soo much, I could barely get a few tears out, I was hacking. I want to cry some more, but I know it will be too intense that I will eventually puke.
I let this get out of control.
This is my fault.
I deserve every second of it.
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It’s nights like this…
I know, cuddled on my couch, with this cold, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
That I’m not going to stop crying.
I’m pathetic.
Weak.
And once I find that special someone, who breaks me, destroying every piece that’s left, I’ll be in pure, numb bliss.
I crave that day more than I should.
But I’ll just leave the scream in the back of my throat, trying to claw it’s way out.
And maybe, just maybe, I can destroy myself.
The thought is enough for me to breathe a long solid breath.
Soon.
