Carnage

It was the intoxication for you that made me realize that I’ve been getting drunk of the wrong things for way to long

I’ve been sober before your lips, before your hands on my hips

You made me rethink the concept of being in a state sobriety

Because I would always see my self staring at the end of a bottle for a daring push into the world of extraordinary cliches to feel a sense of normalcy, different than awkward social convention I shoved myself into 

But then I found myself drinking you, and felt at ease, felt at peace

Because liquor isn’t supposed to transform you

It’s supposed to bring out your truest shade out form the shadows

Shadows that were born out of the constricted norms embedded into my mind before I could even think about playing with my barbie dolls

And then I drank a tangy mixture of cheap vodka, expensive self-derailemt and an aftertaste of a misplaced childhood.

And for the first time in my predetermined existence

For the first time in my etiquette driven, formulaic personality

For the first time my mask fell of my face

Tumbled down on to the floor

And fell between your fingertips

For the first time I wasn’t afraid of pain

I found comfort in the scars you left on my neck

Open wounds that got infected with delusions and ill-adviced caresses

Because with every stroke they became deeper

And now here I stand

That result of your carnage

Battered black and blue but holding on to your control over me

Waiting

Waiting for you to bite deeper into me until I’m lost in my own oblivion

Only to find myself in your arms

Wanting to feel weak again

Craving the hangover 

1984

My goal of writing a post every Monday has become a complete failure. What can I say, me and deadlines just don’t mix when it comes to inspiration. I don’t know what is happening to me lately that I can’t get inspired. Maybe it’s because I feel under complete control and words can’t seem to flow through my inner core up to my hands to express the feeling of utter helplessness and fear of simply thinking. That, or I’m simply coming down with a heavy does of seniortis and I have no interest other than Netflix, and that’s not a very good source of inspiration. 

But seriously, I feel straight out of the book 1984 where even having thoughts that are remotely out of line are punished. I can’t have a conversation with someone without being careful with how I word things because I might be taped. Psychological trauma has forced me to think things and say things I wouldn’t say otherwise, to act differently. As I write this post I’m terrified that it might come back to haunt me, but I have to figure out if someone she has found my one true escape. I do realize all this sounds outlandish, straight out of a bad suspense movie, but I can’t help but feel my heart and opinions being mangled by the one person who swore would protect them. Screw healthy formation, if you want someone to follow your set opinion as to how they should act, make them fear their own existence. 

It’s become such a pull on me that I’m afraid to fall in love, because I know no one will ever be good enough, no one will ever bring back the sense of safety that she’s taken away. 

It’s no joke that as I type these words my heart races in utter anxiety that after this post I’ll be annexed from my first amendment right. 

Pain is relative

Dedication: To my fading self worth

 

Pain in relative

And as it burns through your memories

It becomes a part of you

A scar that you know like the back of your hand

Chemical burn that you learned to caress

And is always there when you’re alone

Cause the skin is so vile

And the scar is so great

That no one will want to hold you with your crippled emotions

And the solution would be to deal with it like the dead

Going back to those few moments

Very few unforgotten smiles an whispers

But you think it’d be best to deal with it like the living

It’s the solution of the strong

Because you have to be stronger

You can’t let the burning desire

Of crashing into vice consume you

So you deal with it like the living

Having it square in the face

As a reminder

A reminder that redemption won’t save you

And damnation is imminent

Damnation caused by your desires to be

And live in a way you believed to be beautiful

But in fact is just a tunnel thats getting narrower

And there’s no way out of it

So you drown in the vinegar at the end of it

To nurture

To feel numb

To not care

And then, you’re strong

In this context “strong” meaning empty

Cause you’ve hit rock bottom

Congratulations

No one can ever hurt you again