Untitled

Untitled, by Mollycx

~

I feel stuck.

Static.

There is something inside of me, something dark, bitter, and sad. Something I want desperately to unleash, but cannot. It draws my breath from me; it aches in my chest. It leaves me silent in a room full of friends, gasping for air where there should be plenty.

This thing, it makes me feel useless. It makes me feel like I'm wrong. But at the same time, I know if I let it flourish... it would either be the best thing to ever happen to me, or the worst.

The worst would be dead.

The best? The best is a completely foreign entity. Not me. But yes, perhaps, the true me.

I want to be different. And not just normal different, but different different. I've always felt different. I've never really fit in anywhere. I don't have really close friends, we have too dissimilar interests. I pretend most of the time, and it's so very tiring.

I hurt so very much.

But where to begin.

~

It hurts, but my mind is dulled. The black fluid I swallowed, it has altered my brain. The dried up plant, devoid of its moisture, is burnt and inhaled.

I feel fun.

I feel...

Ouch.

No, that's not what I want. At first, it was nice, the attention. I'm so often ignored or unnoticed, that the attention was desirable. I was wanted.

But not like this.

This is scary, this is painful.

This is shameful.

So why am I doing it? The alcohol? The drugs?

Or is it really me? Do I actually want this?

Yes and no.

~

Safety was, is, an illusion. Pain can strike at any time. Fear can tackle you down, jam its fist into your guts, and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

And then tear a piece of you out, only to throw it back in your face.

Usually this fear is not the unknown, but something familiar. Oddly familiar. Deserved?

No, of course not.

But sometimes it's not just your own. You live someone else's pain. You live their sorrow. You live with their failures.
You are a manifestation of their guilt. You are what they want, what they need, what they will never be.

And their will destroys you. Destroys what they desire in you. Destroys the thing that makes you so beautiful to them.
Once destroyed, there is no regaining what has been, or will be, lost.

Gone.

~
TBC.