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This is my first public piece. Feedback welcomed. This piece is a verse novel. Enjoy! |
Preface This is a story of the stages of my life. The good, the bad... the nightmare. I prayed God would help me live my dreams of being a writer. So maybe that's why all this has happened. To give me something so raw, So tantalisingly real. These words are my story This ink, my blood. Dusk i was fifteen when my best friend showed me what she concealed under her sleeves. the red lines traced over white, like a highlighted history book a compilation of the worst moments of her life. there's more, She said, than just those on her arms. i warned her of a vein, hidden, but so fragile on her thigh. just a slight crack in its wall will see you emptied, bloodless. in a matter of seconds. a humourless smile appears but leaves just as quick. why, She asks, do you think my leg is the most decorated. The Third House from the Corner those four walls a fortress. where do you go when your house isn't your home? a kid shouldn't be scared to open that door and walk into a battlefield. the third house from the corner was the one with yelling on Christmas morning. a brother should pick up his sister by the hand when she can't stand. not pick her up by her throat to pin her against the wall. Sunset maybe there was another way, but it was how i was taught. It'll keep knocking; ignore It. It'll start pounding; run from It. It'll get bored. It'll run to the window, and force its way in there. that's the truth. It can't be ignored. It'll find a way in and when It does, It'll be angry you never welcomed It with a smile. old friend, It'll say. we have some catching up to do. Pain catches up, no matter how much It's barricaded. when It's inside, there is no hiding only distraction. Her my feet were crossed in the air, resting on Her bed. The floorboards attacked my spine, flattening out the arches. our heads leaned in rested on each other. giving each other the support we both needed while we exchanged the stories that lead us here. He would grab Her, She told me, and forced Her on Her knees. our hands intertwined as we both cried. Midnight 'you can't fight fire with fire' no. but i learned to fight Pain with pain. when it was impossible to hold the door back and block the window; when It forced its way in, i fought. Dusk there only thing stronger than the feel of Pain's grip tight, inside. is welcoming, inflicting pain on the outside. you see, Pain, i learned, has its own kryptonite; blood. Sunrise blood became my best friend, my protector. until i met You. You were the water; the extinguisher. You healed the burns the leftovers of Pain's grip. You kissed the scars, told me they were beautiful. a mark on my skin, letters making up my story. You taught me happiness. You were a healer, a lover, a teacher. a lie. The Backseat nine months was all it took. nine months, and you had me. all my trust, hope future was in you. You lay me down the leather sticking to the dampness of my skin. Your lips met mine and traced down my neck, chest stomach. i felt your fingers run up my leg, locking around my underwear, pulling them down. Stop, i whispered my accelerated heart rate producing only a soft plead. it's okay, You kissed my mouth. no, the blood pulsing through my ears drowned out the cracking of my voice. 9 months was all it took for You to betray me. The Change it happened so quick. Your voice, the very same one that whispered "I love you"s in the middle of the night the one i became accustomed to hearing, became the voice that urged me on. I know you, You would sigh, you're just pretending. manipulating. you're not really in danger. "those marks on your arms are just for show. they're not real. you're just pretending." The Truth the ink smudged, ran down the paper. water that escaped my eyes attacked it like floodwater. the jarred letters created by shaking hands made the note almost undecipherable. the clear liquid mixed with the red that dripped from my veins. i wish you could see me now see the blood, read the note and tell me i'm pretending i'm not in danger. Awakening the best day by far was when i woke up. and saw the truth. of how much You hurt me; far more than You helped me. |