sindoom

[sindoom]

is it a fear of the mess

i'm afraid i have too much pudge on my bones. and i'm afraid i don't know what's wrong or what happened between then and now. why your hands deliberate before they touch me, why they can't bare to linger for too long. have i scalded you already? i know intimacy scares you. but five-hundred and twenty-three days ago there was a sparkle (fire) in your eyes when you wrapped your hands around my waist and praised my skin, blemished and scarred.

my body is beginning to feel disgusting. like you know whats been here before and you don't want to be near it. i know intimacy scares you. but you lose your footing when you have to touch me, although you love when i touch you. my body is beginning to feel disgusting. i know intimacy scares you. but i've lost so much. i'd never do anything to hurt you, there's so much more to intimacy, you don't have to worry.

what happened between now and five-hundred and twenty-three days ago? more pudge on my bones, more scars and blemishes, more to lose? i can't put my finger on it and you're tight lipped. if its sparing me my feelings it must be huge because i'm already sore.

[sindoom]

karmic

everything that's happening is tenfold of my own misfortune or mishap. it'd be wishful thinking to call it delution when the pattern is so blinding. i probably deserved it all; all of the carnage and death, the rape, the neglect, and now its the feeling of being so useless. i'm seeing where it lays in the pattern, all the shit i put my mother through is coming back at me like a crown of thorns. i wish i could do more, i'm so helpless and pathetic.

it's so surreal writing this in the back of my lovers car. i only see him everso often but im bursting at the seems with this dread, when usually i just can't keep my hands off of him. so strange. despite it all tonight will get better. i'll play mother and distract with a set of keys and a bottle of banquet, we'll end the night tangled on the shower floor giggling. god i love him.

- m.l. bludclots, 1200 odd miles away. 3.21.25

[sindoom]

panic button, again

i dream of blood and it nags at me day and night. lapping at the shore. i think im gonna break. fuck my stress tolerance has been so good. the thought of mutilation always calms me down but never this much, im finding solace in it again. like i can sink into it. like eventually its the answer. it always has been.

ml.2425

[sindoom]

[sindoom]

verb determiner adjective

grief brings out the most awkward volatile parts of an individual. i've never dealt with it right; and as ive been told, there's no such thing as 'the right way'.

losing your father long after his body's gone cold, losing your pet, losing your friends sequentially, your sisters lips are blue, losing your tormentor, losing yourself, becoming the tormentor.

i fear i started this not even thinking about the grief, more about what it always dredges up. i remember here i wrote about when i watched my grandfather died, i couldn't muster a tear until my fathers own urn was plopped in my hands on the way out the door.

it makes me rickety and vulnerable, every chime makes me wonder who's next. a small part of me says i can end the cycle by putting myself in the line of fire, which isn't entirely rational. but every person i've known stricken with this lifelong depth of grief has a suicide-panic-button.

once again, i didn't even mean for this to be about the grief. i am wholeheartedly insecure, was my original point. i've been picking and prodding and my frayed edges trying to get to the bottom of it and i know exactly what the issue is. i am a sick individual in a relationship (point and laugh), meaning i think too much.

in my prior, i was violated so horrifically and a small part of me thinks (knows) i deserved it. we were not kind to eachother, but like a child i rack my brain to figure out who started it. i always need someone to blame even if it lands on me.

i'm scared that it will land on me, and i'm even more scared that it'll carry over. that i am the tormentor. that my poor sweet lover will feel my wrath and never be the same, that he'll never be the same, that he'll be as sick as me. i'm feeling the insecurities of my prior, i am becoming him.

maybe i'm just fucking stupid and cynical

- m.l. bludclotz (1.24.2025)

[sindoom]

relapse again

i feel like i've been bathing in warm shame. just fully encompassed in every aspect. whether it be career or education, in relationships or just being heard and seen. my tail is tucked between my legs and concurrently i'd like to make a mess or clean myself up.

if you're familiar with a phq9 i fear that's what i really should be looking at but i'm not spending my christmas in the hospital. it just gets sad and repetitive where isolating doesn't look concerning to an outsider, now im just a shitty friend or unreliable or uninvolved. i do not get asked how i am doing, i'm at a juvenile stage in thinking that i am beginning to fear those around me would thrive without me looming in their space. my subconscious cannot decide whether that thought process is right or wrong, because i know in my heart it is both. i am wholly burdensome and tiring, i am old news and distinctive patterns, i am destruction and disappointment.

i'll keep going though, until my fumes meet spark and combustion. i'm just fearful of how cloudy my vision is becoming. one day i'm thrumming for stimulation or a sign that i'm alive, and the next i can feel myself rot with how lackluster the rest of my life will be. i am predictable in that way.

- m. l. bludclots 12/17/24

[sindoom]

in lieu of october

head in

i miss you like a quarter tone bend on the strings of my guitar

i drown in its murky sound

i miss you like the taste of metal, the blood on your teeth

how many times can i write the word 'you' before i forget who i was speaking of in the first place?

october air tends to bite at my innards, like i'm taking my first breath. i exhale it as if it were my last.

i wish to dig up my old habits from their shallow coffinbirth grave, and kiss them with the tenderness a mother would gift Her child.

i am so alive, yet i have never been so deeply departed.

rot is what i live in, decay is what i aim for.

yet i hurt on such a grand scale, at the idea that i will forever be unsteady and fluctuant on my own two feet.

everyday feels like a fresh start in the same old vessel. reaching for something new and exciting, despite the glowing sign on my face that reads failure to thrive.

how would one start, if all they search for is the end?

- m.l. bludclots (oct 2022)

[sindoom]

cover up them white walls

one of the best feelings in the world is starting over. the epitome of the "spreading your wings" cliche. go anywhere, love anyone, drink what you'd like. nothing watching over you or pulling the strings.

one of the worst feelings in the world is starting over. the novelty of it has a shelf-life. fucking whoever, turns into "why dont you love me?". and living by yourself means too much time alone, you get lonlier by the hour. opposing schedules and a beer gut around the corner.

the sun comes out to burn your face, the moon comes out and just never leaves

- m. l. bludclotz

[sindoom]

no way but down

it always ends with the end. my beautiful beginnings are just the end, the bow i play on the meat of my arms are the end too. you will see it's the end; it's not worth it, i'm not worth it. you will see. the first day of the rest of my life, just happens to be the end too. i'm churning on the inside, with hot sick. i'll sputter it in your general direction, and you'll no longer give the grace and patience you once granted me. i always know its the end, the throbbing in my temples. i always know. but i am so frightened for the day that you realize it too.

- ML

[sindoom]

medical leave

he'll realize how much quieter it is, when you aren't around. he'll love it. you'll become him, he'll become you. a cycle unbroken until the flush of formaldehyde takes its grip.

attatched at the hip like an addiction, i can stop whenever i want to. when its time to let go though, theres no way. a fire in your head, metal in your heart, the ground is above you and there's bile on your shoes.

to remember the first violation, is it set fire at the last.

ML

[sindoom]

like a spider

it is in my chemistry to say 'i love you more', and it is a burden to always mean it; to know that i've never been wrong. too much of a good thing is a poison. love will give you ulcers.

- m

[sindoom]

taste of my own medicine huh

[sindoom]

delta

distance makes the heart grow fonder, they tell me. i believe them. i believe them in the way i use your shirts as my pillowcase and cry when i can no longer smell you on me. i have been so patient, i will be patient for the next four years until the day comes where i can keep you. and we'll only part ways to start our life together. i don't want to forget how you smell anymore. i don't want to wake up cold, wishing i could remember how soft i felt melting into you. the first day you came home to me, i whined in your arms at the notion that time flies when you're having fun. the thought of you leaving made me shudder. i blinked a few hundred times and then you were gone again.

- m.l. blud (2.9.24)

[sindoom]

same same

you will come to realize that everything is this complicated. bile in your mouth, black and white, picking and choosing, making the wrong choice.

it was a trick question.

you will start to scream at me, i will not blame you. my skin will turn yellow and blue, it will be my fault. you will run far far away, i wouldn't question it.

you will come to realize im not the one you love, it will be a listening ear that fills you warm and kind. the vomit will become too much, the blood and ice will make you flinch, i will make you live to regret, because this is the end of every road ive ever met.

- m.l.

[sindoom]

[sindoom]

xb

have i not been through enough. have i not seen and felt it all.

i have found true love for the rest of my life but all it requires is patience. and boy am i trying. but have i not seen enough? evil and rust that manifests itself in my own bedroom. skin broken from the assaults. flesh and mind bled from the raping.

ive found something beautiful. in the grace of fifteen hundred miles and a cold bed.

haven't i suffered enough? must i wait in the burning solace of a bimonthly visit and a sick stomach? forever and ever, until the next life i vowed. i will wait until my teeth rot.

but my mind beckons, haven't i seen enough? must i wait for something which carries such euphoria? years on end will i wait to feel a warm heart in the form of skin on skin contact.

was my pain not enough to grant something as beautiful as you are? i will wait. i will weep. i will beg. forever we will spend. in the eye of a cold mattress for the lot of the year.

until you can live somewhere safe inside of me.

somewhere close and warm.

somewhere in which i am.

- m.l (11.1.23)

[sindoom]

so glad to hear from you, and so glad you're doing well. so glad you have someone new to use. someone elses bank account to wear down. someone else to kiss and smile about. someone else to bite hard on thin skin. someone else to bruise. and i hope that they are petite, smaller than me. i hope that she's a woman so you wont have to hide her. i hope that she's beautiful so you could never be ashamed to show her off. i hope she has a license so theres no need to compromise. i hope that you text her back as soon as you see the notification. i hope you can fuck her while the lights are on, to make sure you can see every piece of her. i hope she doesnt drink as much as i do. i pray she isn't dramatic. i hope she wasnt socialized in a tight fit box . i hope when you pinch her cheeks, it isnt out of obligation. i hope the items i've given you stay warm in your hands. i hope the things ive lent you never find their way back to me. and when you tell her you miss her, i hope you mean it.