The quicksand trap
The pause in my existence for months
Urine in bottles
Yellow stained teeth
Bed hair for weeks
Time to get up
When the child breaks the silence
Start somewhere; start; with this.
This, is anything and everything I want it to be
This, is honesty; despite all of the intrusive thoughts
This, is me trying; despite all of the social expectations
This, is hard;
I have spent years hating every part of my entire being
Punishing myself for letting him win; for not fighting hard enough
For letting him erase every aspect of my childhood;
My body was made not my own, but his
My dreams; always turning against me.
How every night, I still see his face so vividly
How he still takes,
How even though I have spent so long trying to erase him from my existence
He never leaves
The scars he left; they’ve found a permanent home in my conscience
How I can still see him taking everything from that child, Even when it did not belong to him
How I am the child;
Despite all the times I’ve tried not to be.
Be the child anyway
I want to say thank you.
Thank you to the earth;
The big blue planet that sustains our lifeform.
For every person;
Every person who has ever felt the burden of true darkness;
The darkness that swallows everything in sight.
You’ve still tried to be the light
It is you
You, who has comforted me in the darkest of nights
Nights where I can still feel him; he’s taking everything again and again
Everything that was never his to begin with.
Even when every part of my being is trying so hard to destroy;
To eradicate any proof of my existence
I am so thankful, so grateful
To have had the pleasure of co-existing next to you.
Sadness that takes
It is not the kind of sadness where I cry all the time,
But more like the sadness that overwhelms my entire being;
Leaving my heart aching and my stomach empty.
The most mundane of tasks causes the world to collapse around me
Leaving nothing but the ruins of every dream I ever dared to reach for.
The sadness strips;
Exposing parts of me I can no longer endure
Leaving a type of weakness;
A type of fatigue,
That no amount of sleep can Cure.
The sadness seeps into my dreams;
Or what used to be my only chance to breathe
There is seemingly no escape;
Taught that to be thin, Is to be perfect;
Skin is as purple as an enchanted forest;
Or the darkest of nights
Monkey fur spread over my entire being;
Like a blanket conjured from my own pain
Keep running until everything I am finally evaporates
Condensation always remains
Will never be enough; or
Leave A Comment