i felt it in my soul when he slid his hands up my shirt. i wanted it. i wanted more. i wanted the distraction of coffee stained teeth and track marked infested veins. the illness of another resting in my hands. in my soul. my soul was a slave to his desire. i needed what he wanted. its impossible to feel empty when someone else is inside your head.
i felt it in my hands. cold. the icy rivers of black tar running through my veins caused my hands to tremble. they went numb looking for warmth. but when the blood red charcoals of freshly lit cigarettes glistened towards me i couldn’t resit welcoming her home. feeling her jolt of warmth run through my body. the bubbling of my skin no longer mattered, because i was in love with the buzzing in my fingertips after i touched her body.
i felt it in my back. an urge. a craving for bloody knuckles and gasping for air. to feel the pride of another deflate as my hands pulled them down. my eyes shooting glares of hatred, my mouth spewing words of disgust. my rationality holding back the blood thirsty monster in my spine. there is no angry with me. there is a a thick concoction of rage boiling over at the base of my body. there is a primal need to exhibit destruction that is nestled between my joints. i have never seen red; i’ve felt it.
i felt it in my teeth. crawling. squirming. i instructed my brain to remain logical. to chase away the voices of the monsters under my bed. clenching my teeth, begging my mouth to stop opening the gateway between my irrational mind and the world. eventually, it did. when i lost my voice the spindle in my head that once constantly weaved elaborate webs, stood still. i attempted to scream, to speak louder, to try to regain control of the machinery responsible for my sanity. but i couldn’t. the silence haunts me, knowing i asked for this emptiness.
i felt your pain break my heart. i tilted my head like a confused animal when attempting to identify the source. as if i didn’t know. while a mothers intuition saved the child, curiosity killed the cat. so i watched your life like re-runs of Sunday morning cartoons. forgetting that your existence blossomed beyond the visible parts on the screen. i spent ten months so indulged in myself, id almost forgotten you were missing. when you stopped returning my calls, i showed up at your door. i expected the welcoming smile of the child that had once saved my life. but rather i was greeted by a hurried note stapled to the door declaring you no longer lived here. when my search for your sanity grew weary, i grew physically ill. in vain, i found you. my mind went blank when i realized you were the one staring back at me, every time i looked in the mirror. two decades of my misery flashed in front of me when i looked into your eyes. unknowingly i held the door to the deepest shadows of my heart break open, and you found a home. i can never forgive myself for that. i don’t sleep much anymore. wondering that if i hate myself, how can i love you?
i am an all-or-nothing type of person. in the terms that i do not feel emotions properly. i misplace them. i feel nothing as they manifest in various parts of my body. however, when they demand to be felt, i cannot get out of bed as they feast on my well being. but eventually i will feel nothing again.
im so sorry i hurt you.