Codename: Wanderlust (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
codenamewanderlust) wrote2017-01-15 03:11 pm
codenamewanderlust) wrote2017-01-15 03:11 pm
Entry tags:
LJ Idol 10: Week 5: Fear is the heart of love
Life Is Pain
The feeling of the carpet scratching your face
The feeling of the carpet scratching your face
Wakes you up in the middle of the night
You’re gasping for air
trying
not
to remember
You don’t want to remember
the feeling of begging for your dignity
Your clothes being pulled off
You try to convince yourself
it wasn’t really like that
You’re just a drama queen
Looking for attention
But you’re irrationally afraid
for the children in paper towel commercials
You can’t accept your own truth
can’t bring yourself to believe
It was even real
Can’t bring yourself
To cause her pain
Even now (Especially now)
Separated by miles
And chasms full of skeletons
stuffed into closets, hidden under the bed
You’re told she is sick
And you’re sorry
You’re so fucking sorry
You want to tell her you forgave her years ago
She was so young
When she carried you inside of her
You try to think good thoughts for her
You try to look at her pictures
The endless stream of cyber scrapbooks
But you can’t shake the feeling
You’ve forgotten something
You’re body knows what your mind is hiding
the world suddenly stops making sense
and you think maybe
you need to get far away
Punching walls so hard
your knuckles bleed
Redirecting energy
You’re Bruce Banner about to become a sobbing incoherent Hulk
born of an anger that sounds like your mother
slamming every cabinet door
and breaking the dishes in the sink
when she gets home from work
because you really should have washed them
They tell you
your mother is sick
and you have to make amends
You’re standing in the kitchen peeling an orange
when you realize you can’t remember
when you decided to eat an orange
You need to pull yourself together
pull yourself back to the moment
that is right the fuck now
You believed you’d already exorcised this demon
the night before your 28th birthday
fading into the bathroom floor (the high was a bonus)
Slurring your words as you sipped wine with your roommates
You’d swallowed three more DXM pills
than you had the day before
Trying to work up the courage
to take the whole bottle
Your heart crying out
Is this
finally
good enough?
It was a bargain
when you continued to live
raised from perdition
You really want to forget
the times you volunteered as tribute
when her wrath was turned on your sister
You still get itchy in your skin
when your roommates are noisy in the kitchen
You flinch when your lover shouts
You protect your boundaries like The Commander Of The Wall
like John Snow hurling yourself into battle
without thinking about the aftermath because
you already came back from the dead once anyway
There are only ten contacts in your address book
and your mother still isn’t one of them
You burn and slice through your skin
trying to div out what you did wrong this time
Standing at the bathroom sink trying to work up the courage
Until she holds your nose
Pouring the bitter liquid down your throat
You never did like the taste of cough syrup
You catch yourself stepping over cracks ——
Step. Step. Step.
Hop. Skip. Blink.
You blink every time you pass a dotted yellow line
Imagining the car is between two lines
You’re 8, 10, 12, 15, 21
and you play this game whenever she is driving
Her words hurting more than the bruises when she swings
and your head hits the passenger window
You lied to
and learned to fight back
It was always your fault anyway
Locked in the bathroom confused and alone
the burning pain of her hand
still on your cheek
You were just a bad kid
Spoiled rotten
Pain in the ass
Get out of my sight
or
I’ll give you something to cry about
Slamming the door repeatedly
to distract yourself from fear
until it’s removed from it’s hinges
Humiliation used as a tool
to chip away at your adolescent psyche
Someone is telling you it’s going to be okay
but you’re confused
You’re too busy trying to survive
without hurting anyone
Your hands look like her hands now
You have to remind yourself to breath
You feel like you’re drowning anyway
It’s muscle memory
A survival instinct
to protect your vital organs
Hiding in closets
At the top of the stairs
Refusing to come closer
Pain becomes your totem
This is awake
This is what’s real
She’s sick
And you’re sorry
And nothing ever really changes
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750 words (technically +1 that's crossed out)
_________________________
750 words (technically +1 that's crossed out)
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thank you for reading! This was a hard one to put out there, I almost didn't post it but I'm glad I did.
LJI fav reads list, week 5
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I blame Gary...and Death Cab For Cutie, thank you for reading
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You’re too busy trying to survive
without hurting anyone
And that is the theme clear to the end, where you are sorry she is dying, truly sorry, but you don't reach out because you have finally learned to protect yourself first.
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wow I didn't even make that connection because yes, I really DON'T want to hurt anyone, even her, despite everything
(full disclosure: I've heard she is in remission)
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Thank you!
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Thank you so much! internet was down where I'm at all day today and I'm behind on my reading/commenting
I appreciate this comment and writing this was scary but cathartic and truly gave me some perspective moving forward. The hardest part is that I lived in denial for so long that some part of me insists that I'm remembering at all wrong.
I almost took a bye this week when this was the first thing that came to mind when I read the prompt but something Gary said in the GR made me reconsider.
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*Hugs* I am sorry to know this is non- fiction. But you did a great job of conveying the emotions. Raw and disturbing.
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*hugs*
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