The story doesn't stop there. I am opposed to tell you the rest. I'm leaking information like a joking man, dying of an aneroxic cancer. Derived from years of living with a man I felt bullied me and shut me out emotionally. My voice was belittled in mocks an calls; Silent stares at walls. Sometimes they came from my own doing and sometimes not. I was hiding but nothing was really a secret. Wounds oozed so porous you needed to touch them, hoping to mend the tender threads.
Words fell on deaf ears in the cold night I was alone. This was so stressful what happened to me. there was panic ignighted in my veins. When I say it now it sounds crazy- I try to go back in my mind and erase it. My thoughts now replaying it over and over. The shoulda the woulda the coulda. I climb over broken dreams to get here. Beauty was sacrificed, health declined, vacant bones protruded. I layed in bed compromised by my way of thinking. Denial, I had the ability to escape for just a second, a minute more, heartbeats rushing. I cling to the wings of the dawn. I embrace the heart song alone we sing together. I'm going to deal with this ghost right now, so I'm not carrying this forever. In a little sick voice the girl says "me". I'm running, for myself, looking at the world as it reflects me. It hurts it hurts really bad. I sit with women and peers hurting. Begging for something to take away the pain. Ingesting teachings like pills for sobriety, holding onto words as hope is to wedding bands.
Sworn for one thing, sold for the next. Don't involve with with your crimes, I'm sensitive, I'm of value. One or maybe three people in the world hate me. One is destroying me.
I have to love myself constantly enough not to let it- it almost did.