harrowedbody

[harrowedbody]

i was not taught a loving god. i was taught fire and brimstone- that god put me in the this world and goddammit, he’ll take me out of it. guilt was carved so deep in me that it hit bone. i recited the Lord’s Prayer like it was a common nursery rhyme.

[harrowedbody]

the sun rises and sets with the world, but the moon hangs low with me.

[harrowedbody]

i saw you last night you were back at the head of the table and we were surrounded by family again.

there was a fire only i saw, everyone else was smiling and laughing as the smoke burned my lungs.

no one noticed but we were burning burning burning and i didn’t want to leave your side again even as the flames licked my skin and turned your home to dust.

i don’t know if it symbolized  regret or rebirth or grief or any other emotion i don’t know how to apply to you.

i do know that sometimes i walk pass the empty lot where you sat at  the head of the table and it’s like it was never there at all.

we might as well have burned.

[harrowedbody]

i bottled up all the negative emotions and called it “recovery”

[harrowedbody]

i’ve grabbed death by the hand and screamed “take me with you, goddammit” only to be left behind.

i’ve pulled him so close and looked him right in the eye, only to find out that he looks just like someone i can’t bring myself to remember. i’ve prayed to god, asking him to plunge his holy hands deep into my chest and pull out whatever was embedded in me. and he didn’t answer.

i’ve begged him to let me know why?

why does he let me live like this? was i put here just to suffer?

i’ve prayed to god, asking him to take me to happiness or at least to contentment.

i’ve asked death to please let me follow.

but they didn’t answer me. i wouldn’t have either.

[harrowedbody]

are you sorry?

are you sorry for the hospital bills? for the blood stains in the bathtub and on the floor?

are you sorry for the scars that won’t fade? for all the uncomfortable stares you get in public?

are you sorry for the pills and vomit in the toilet? for the empty bottles?

are you sorry for all the notes with handwriting too messy to read saying your goodbyes?

are you sorry for all the years of therapy and medication gone to waste?

are you sorry for the broken glass? for the unmade bed? for the dirty hair? for the unwashed clothes?

are you sorry?

do you forgive yourself?

[harrowedbody]

most days i wish i could choke on the lump in my throat

[harrowedbody]

my soul is a wild fire that burns through me, lighting me up from the inside out.

[harrowedbody]

this ever-burning something inside of me is going to  burn me down

[harrowedbody]

i’m bitter. i want to have that. i don’t want anyone telling me to move on, to let it go because everyone else clearly has. i just want to be bitter. i want to be angry and scream and cry. i want to make a big deal out of it. but i feel like it’s a delayed reaction.  when it happened, i froze. i closed myself off. i didn’t think about it because if i did, i would have killed myself. i’ve spent the last couple years cleaning the wound but not closing it. not healing.

and now i’m angry. i’m hurt and i’m bitter and i’m angry. and i feel like i have no right to be. like all those years of coldness made me not entitled to anger. 

i erupted so slowly no one noticed it was happening at all. until it all came out. and now everyone is confused and angry at me. 

i’m just trying to heal, and if that means being bitter and angry and holding a grudge, so be it.

[harrowedbody]

i wanted to open my wrists and offer them as gifts. i wanted gods, old and new, to come down and tell me that i deserved to die- to acknowledge this wickedness inside of me.

i wanted someone to  tell me that all of my self-loathing was warranted.

[harrowedbody]

sometimes i see you in places  you aren’t in.

in pictures we took when you weren’t there. in empty spaces at every family gathering. in stuck door handles, in ringing house phones, in empty lounge chairs, in knitted blankets.

sometimes im reminded in the most painful of ways.

the smell of cigarettes when no one is smoking. you waving on the porch of a house that no longer stands.

[harrowedbody]

i have to check every time to make sure that we don’t run in the same circles anymore. to make sure i don’t have to see your face anymore. to not let you in my life anymore.

i don’t want to have the same interests as you anymore.

i can’t listen to certain songs anymore. i don’t even want to live in this city anymore.

some of my own memories make me feel sick.

[harrowedbody]

“you can’t buy happiness” but i can and it’s about $30 for 30 pills, one a day, orally, take in the morning dont double up if you miss a dose.

[harrowedbody]

she was the first girl i ever loved. we weren't dating. i don't miss her. but she was the first girl i ever loved, and i miss that. i miss being able to say 'i love you' and it not be heavy. i miss the way we could just talk for hours. and have none if it felt forced. none of it was throwaway conversation, even though, i now realize, that all of it was meaningless. i don't miss her. i struggle with myself to continue to write this because i don't want her to read it. i don't want her to know that i still think about her. but i know that if i don't get this out, it will haunt me. she will haunt me. see, she still shows up in my dreams sometimes. and i want nothing more than to than to never think of her again but, fuck. she was the first girl i ever loved, and how do i just forget that?

[harrowedbody]

i offered up my wrists like they were a gift.

[harrowedbody]

there is something burning in me. it's going to burn me down.