Travelling With Excuses

Tw: rape

Tw: self harm

Just seventeen and you didn’t even Want me to close my eyes and power through

but I did anyways

despite what I did to you

I watched you cry and slice your arm

and laughed because I didn’t care

and I wanted to hurt you

because I couldn’t sit with how good you made me felt

and that wasn’t your fault

I took advantage of the softest parts of you and you were not sober

and I didn’t care

because I had excuses

Just seventeen and you had no idea I’d try to ruin you

want to destroy you

and it got to the point where

I didn’t know that it would

all come and eat me one day

Showed me downtown

stood there and held me as I screamed

and threw tantrums just so you’d have sex with me

I normally wouldn’t write about this in great detail

but I’m trying to be true to myself now

and nothing can take back anything

and I did deserve karma

but I acted like you did everything wrong

You did some things wrong

but mostly after I quenched my own thirst

when you were pouring what you had

into my mouth

when it should have been sewn shut

I’m sorry I hurt you

and I’ll never be able to apologize without

it backfiring again and it should

but please know that I take full accountability and you didn’t deserve that

I did have feelings for you and I can’t use the ” oh I’m just a boy, that’s how I show how I feel “, because that’s bullshit. But I did care about you and sometimes I wish it were different

Thank you for showing me the worst pets of hell and for softening it all at the same time

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Silk Soaked 7.

Tw: Sexual Abuse

Sunset silk
she was dehydrated from
falling weak to the
devil’s snappish lips

Soaking in everything he
threw into her mouth
one, two, three
come over here, he said
look here, he said

Afternoon tea
wasn’t what she thought it was
with pages of his favourite book
torn out
like hair pulled from anxiety

Watching, studying every movement
from the light dancing on her arms
to the flickering of the night’s laughter
across the floor

After 7 Crisis
blocking out two years
because he decided that
memories deserved to be distorted
and that I needed to forget
his ugly breath

Trying to remember
why I was sitting there
without a single hand
on my shoulder
keeping me there
so I couldn’t wander off

Sunday Nervousness
had I known I’d be afraid
to look at ninja turtles
for years
I would have tried to
tell him no
but I was a little body
with a voice that
didn’t have a say yet

And for years
I had no idea
I’d allow myself
to think about
where you may be
and who you may be with
and if you hurt them too

But that isn’t of my concern
and you aren’t going to be the reason I drop my identity for

Hovering, but without noise.

Tw: Suicide Idealization Mention.

Tw: Depression Mention.

Ps. I’m just venting into the void. I don’t want advice. I don’t even want to talk about this to people individually. Please don’t comment asking if I’m okay or if I want to talk.

How do I tell my parents I want to die? I don’t want them to think they couldn’t do anything to help me, because sometimes no one can.

I’m tired of distracting myself and although I know I’ll make it out alive when I’m in a bad place, that doesn’t always make things easier.

How do I stop the hovering of this dark place? I don’t always notice it, for all I know, maybe it isn’t hovering in the background. But it’s like a noise without a sound. I notice it sometimes, but I don’t always see it.

I’m in group therapy, I distract myself, I want to work and I’ll put in effort to finding a job and then back out. I’ve worked before when I’ve been in a worse place than this, but this still feels bad.

Am I sad? I don’t know. But my body is sad, it’s heavy, it’s disappointed in me and I know one day I’ll give in. The difference between counting down to the age of thirty and wanting to die and now, is that I’ve been alive a lot longer than I thought I’d be and I wanted to die for so long and now I don’t know what to do.

I didn’t always want to die. I still don’t always want to. But I’m tired of fighting these moments. I just want them to be easier.

I have tips and skills to ground myself, to distract myself, to make myself a little bit happier, but one day I won’t care to use them anymore.

But the funny thing is, is that even though I’m not always mentally stable, I’m more stable than I’ve been in a while. Instability has become my version of stability.

Spined Teeth

I am an empty shell, carry me to the grounds.                                                                                                                                 I am the shelf people place books onto                                                                                                                                       but not read as one, boxed with memories, dogeared with saliva.

Law students would be jealous of my own rules,                                                                                                                         washing onto the shores of the beached houses,                                                                                                                 wandering around like a smile looking for it’s lost teeth

Found, blind sided by my own dose of love,                                                                                                                             golden flowers wildly appearing next to the graves my mind                                                                                                           has so wonderfully dug themselves into                                                                                                                         underneath the old pollinated oaks

Settle Layers

Quietly, creeping it
comes unto my skin
and crawls deeply

Settling, it grabs a hold
of my eyes and chokes
them as they shed their layers

Quickly, overwhelming it
inhaled my very being
swallowing as it moves consuming

Overwhelming, hardly felt it
until suddenly the feeling
was then out of nowhere, felt

Plummeting Breaths

I look for others to make promises for me
Ones I wish I could keep, so far away
From my own mind’s keepsakes and searching for sanity
It’s all I do, holding on to see and waiting
For something, any reason
Clarification as to why it’s harder to let go than to look up at the stars and find peace among the hollow stars that once were filled with gleaming shimmer

I look to others to breathe for me
Breaths that once came easy, now are tainted by the darkest attempts at finding fate
Shallow and fast strokes as my lungs move in and out, shielding what’s left of my pumping bloodened heart

Here, still here or there, everywhere I am at once and nowhere together with the personas I’ve created to sharpen the blades that I stabbed into my own back, punishing the gold rays that beamed from my childhood self with silver thrashes

Dysphoria at its finest.

You’re just sitting there glancing, looking through the old and the new and all of a sudden you can feel it.

Feel that feeling where your eyes are becoming flooded and you’re trying your best to figure out why and what’s causing the liquid to start surfacing.

You try to erase who you were because out of nowhere, you don’t even know who you are today or who you will be, but regardless, your shirt still feels tight.

You look down and it’s as though quicksand had started to absorb certain parts of you and your legs no longer can stand the test of your own strength.

Letting go of your muscles, your tears finally start falling and you see other people who appear to be struggling in similar ways, but that makes you feel worse.

Then, comparing yourself again, you look at your own self and you can’t seem to find anything worth holding on to, slipping.

Finally, you give up trying to fight, shake the weight that has just suddenly punched you with most of it’s wrath and just attempt to distract yourself until the next time.

You know you’ll make it through, but with each and every passing moment, it gets slightly harder.