Quiet And Dark Now
inside of me. yet there are more demons
clamoring to be released. i want to slash
and tear at myself to get them all out before
trying to moving on to the next chapter in my
sometimes i think of it as a book. my life,
i mean. i imagine myself flipping through
the pages and trying to find the plot line,
the theme. like there is one. it's a farce.
i want to simply disappear without a trace.
like ripples on a pond getting farther and
farther away, smaller and smaller till the
place i was a moment before is still and
please, can't you please tell me how to get
all of this behind me? do i find another
lover, put men off limits for 6 months or
so? rape my body over and over, it means
little to me. i have felt powerless for
most of my life, learned to divorce myself
from physical pain. but when my heart gets
bruised, torn, shattered, i'm lost. that's
a pain that paralyses me.
choices, people tell me. it's a choice to
let this go, to move forward, but is it?
how do i distract myself? i've tried letting
go and giving in to the grief, to the despair,
and letting it flow, but it's endless.
i don't care any more what anyone thinks of me.
that's a scary thing, isn't it?
and i know that there is no man alive who can help
me with this. there is nothing to do, really, but
what i've been doing. write till my fingers bleed
to try to vent the feelings that seem more real
than i am. work and try to give to others what i can't
give to myself; comfort. wait it out. ride it out.
try and stay afloat in a sea of murky, dark emotions.
5:52am and still i'm awake, watching for the dawn so
i can sleep.
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