I want to be annihilated completely, I want reciprocal forgetting, I want the angels not to recognize me.

Posts tagged “girl

boys dont just hurt with their words – they hurt with their silences

abysmal.

i though it was me, still do in those harsh moments between crying and not, midnight and tomorrow. I feel hollow. I never knew recovery would be just as hollow as addiction/

but it is – pleasantly hollow.

there is nothing to do now but starve. i feel gross and fat. my medicine leaves me lethargic and fat. this house where i eat leaves me unsatisfied and fat. my boyfriend wont touch me thus leaving me sexless and fat. fat. fat. fat.

where there is a will there is a way. He hurts me more everyday – until reding takes precedent over talking and familiarity takes the place of love.

is there love anymore? theres certainly no passion. no lust. nothing sacredly primal. but is there still a sacredness left? When the bodies of two lie facing each other? holding on tight for the sheer force of the world might rip them apart. Have the angels come unstuck from heaven?

I like it, I’m not gonna crack
I miss you, I’m not gonna crack
I love you, I’m not gonna crack
I killed you, I’m not gonna crack

I like it, I’m not gonna crack
I miss you, I’m not gonna crack
I love you, I’m not gonna crack
I killed you, I’m not gonna crack

we shall never know.

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Letter To My Lover

Dear Forever,

I have pushed through bodies to get to you, pushed through late nights crying over the wrong people, through meaningless, thoughtless sex, and through hopes that have always led to despair. I was mechanical. I was mostly drunk. I was dead.

I though it was normal to cry every night, to let things happen to your body – unwanted touches, and painful caresses ending in loss of myself, moment by moment, piece by piece. It does not get better than this, I told myself endlessly. I made this bed. I deserve this bedding.

mom’s the only one who cares about me, and sometimes she doesn’t understand, know or feel my pain, my loss of control, my self disdain

You showed up at the brutal parting, my forced removal from The All Knowing One, a painful distancing. I cut my arms so deep while I was on the phone with him after he said – it’s done, don’t contact me anymore, you’re poison. I cut them so hard, so emotionally. Blood dripped down my arms, blood pooled on the carpet, my mother screamed and screamed until I couldn’t hear her anymore. The world blurred as my fragile network of lies and truths, or lies that became truths, burned in my heart. Dad got the gauze. My younger brother fell silent. He’s been silent a long time now.

And in the wake of the waves of pain, deep from the ashes of my life, as I tried and struggled with purpose and loneliness. I found you. I fucking found you online. I /saw/ you. I knew.

I don’t want to say you fixed me, because I had a hand in that too. I don’t want to say you destroyed me, because I loved heroin just as much. We have had our share of tough times, just like a plethora of good. I didn’t want to believe we couldn’t be together without drugs, so I mostly didn’t… and we got sober, we got closer, we got healed and we now have each other to thank for it, to save ourselves from the misery of returning to the families we wronged, our lives we ruined, and the pain of our emotions returning to us.

I love your humor, I love your scent, I love the way you are so honest with me, never leading me on or leading me astray. You love me for me, for who I am not who I want to be or worse, who I think I am. You don’t care if my hair is knotted, I just woke up or I am throwing a tantrum because I’m sleepy and can’t find my phone and think I’m going crazy because I checked there, no, I /checked over there/ do. not. Oh ok it was over there? Thanks.

We are not the same, I learned that from you. We don’t have to be the exact same person, that’s ok. We don’t have to be in the same room, which is code for: I feel secure you won’t leave me. I can sleep without you immediately dropping everything and going to sleep too. I had to learn that also. You’ve been a great teacher. You’ve been a better best friend.

I can honestly say I /know/ you, which is almost as good as loving you. I understand, so do you. So when there’s a day we don’t kiss or sit next each other all day or I go for a walk without you, I don’t feel any less loved, any less special, in love or cared about. It’s quite the gift you gave me.

You didn’t steal my heart, you mended it and let me hang on to it for a while. The fact that you have it now? It’s because I decided you were worthy. It was mine to give. It’s mine to take back if I so choose.

Nevertheless, it’s yours now, and I love you so much.

Thank you, with all the love of my being,

To you, my Beautiful One

–Catie bug.


i want a boy with lips like morphine…

Knock me out every time they touch me
I wanna feel a kiss just crush me
And break me down

I haven’t written about Kevin yet. Steve and I broke up in December and it was really really tough. I cut my arms terribly and now have long, pink, puffy scars. It was the literal worst. I thought I was going to die so many times. I fantasized about it constantly. Then something incredible happened. My life was saved. I met Kevin online – I noticed him immediately on the site and messaged him. It was like magic – we connected instantly. Now we have been dating (in person) for about 2 months.

I’m scared of how hard I fell for him. I constantly question my feelings – are they real? is this really happening? I don’t know anymore. He cares about me like no one else – I don’t think I have ever been cared for so much. Sometimes I still think about Steve but it’s becoming harder and harder to remember him. It’s like Kevin is erasing that whole disaster. I remember bits and pieces. Foreheads touching, toads, flashes of memories that make me smile sadly.

I feel kindof sad today. I haven’t really been seeing things but I have been doing a lot of heroin. I don’t think I’m an addict yet though. I love it so much and I love that Kevin and I can get high together. It’s the absolute best to be able to be totally honest with someone. I’ve never had that in my whole life. really. I lie to everyone constantly. Even when I don’t have to, I lie.  I don’t even feel bad about it.

I also haven’t been eating or sleeping. The eating isn’t really an issue though. I can live without eating much. I actually hate eating. It’s a waste of time, money and calories. I like sleeping though and not being able to sleep is really fucking me up. I stay awake in limbo for hours. Shock waves in my chest keep me from nodding off. The heroin helps immensely though. It’s the perfect drug. I don’t feel like I have an eating disorder but sometimes I really think I do. The amount of thinspo on my dash is proof enough.

Back to Kevin. I can honestly say I love him. Which is weird because I never thought I would be able to love anyone but Steve. Kevin literally swept me off my feet. He became everything so soon. I don’t quite trust it yet – but I want to oh I want to. We also have the best sex. Which helps alot. We haven’t really been doing anything because of all the dope and work and such but when we do it’s amazing.

I feel like I’m chasing something – like an idea or a ghost. I feel crazy a lot. I haven’t felt myself all week. I feel broken and bent and disordered. I feel like this is the consequence of some brain chemicals gone haywire. I feel especially moody. I feel like I should be writing poetry all day but I have homework to do that I have been putting off.

fuck.

xXx


Glory

I met this boy a long time ago
His eyes were Caribbean pools
And his mouth – a plump crabapple.
He moved through my forest like a fire.
I loved his cinematic swagger, an
Infectious confidence, heavy in the air –
He never mentioned he would always
Speak in code, speak in riddles –
I didn’t get how much it would hurt at the time,
From here to someplace where I would be
Standing over my own plaster heart –
Bones bare as chains, he was the light
In my bedroom on the nightstand that
I always left on, wishing I didn’t cry the
Whole way home – a light
That created all the shadows.

I met this boy a long time ago,
He was looking on this earth for a place to stand,
He was afraid but it was a fear that understood.
I loved the way we drifted away from the group
The day we first met, the day we fell in love.
We had a moment where our eyes met,
His thin arms around my shoulders.
The moment where we could have kissed,
We were both thinking it.

I cut the daisies at the waist,
The ones he gave me.
I put them in water, told them,
“drink up, baby, drink up.
Stay beautiful before you die.”


the girl with golden eyes

i met another boy and he’s far from perfect but he is loyal. i need that. he doesn’t call or text me very much but that’s because he works non-stop. he wants to be a private investigator and he has a job with a firm. he told me once that if i ever do hard drugs – that i would be seeing much less of him… i don’t know – “when i’m left to my own devices, i go fucking insane.” i’m NOT going to tell my therapist nor am i going to consent to her pressuring me to do drug tests. i feel worthless and alone. i shouldn’t because this wonderful loyal boy cares about me and doesn’t want me to be hurt. he’s so endless i feel that all my problems just get lost when i’m with him and when he calls or texts me – i smile. i fucking smile.

and then there’s my “ex” boyfriend. i put ex in quotations because i still cant bear to say that we have broken up and have been broken up for months. our four year anniversary would have been this july 11th. its going to be a hard day for me. really hard. i’m not sure if i can manage the strength to go to work that day. but. i have this fantasy – that he will call me on that day for the “talk about our future” that we were supposed to have. that he still remembers and cares to some extent. i dont want him  to forget me – i dont think i could bear it. i loved him so much, fuck that, i still love him. i feel like i always will.

i hate the thought of forgetting, that’s why i keep journals and blogs and the like. i feel nauseated – all i can think about is getting dope, starving myself, and being perfect. it’s all a conflict in my mind and my over-medicated psyche is going insane. i have been having mild bipolar symptoms like hallucinations and a deep never ending depression.

“My own misery is taunting me.
The air stings my lungs, I can barely see.
Wicked eyes surrounding me, the trees are watching silently.
I could try to run but baby what’s the point?”

-alesana

xXx