A bridal shower in the red room

A bride in white

With the lace trim

And satin slippers, whispers

Cautious as the groom strolls

For she knows that he lies

But she hides

And she cries

And she bides her time

Trying to get it just right

Potent is the dish

In which revenge sits

But she wishes

Oh she wishes

That it wouldn’t end like this

But fate has other plans

As the grooms men stroll

Taking tallies of the delicious whims

And dances of the girls last night

Soaking up the boose

And the drugs too

Groom lost his hand

But found it again

At least

That is how the story goes

told to the waiting bridesmaid

On the front page of the news stand

But she of course didn’t listen

Wouldn’t wish this in any man

Or women, for that matter

And yet we sit in the closet

Bride holding the blade in hand

While the groom lays on the ground

Retelling the story from the news stand

As the braidmaids listen

and the grooms men walk

Only to sit by because lies aren’t enough

So the groom goes to reach

Guess he found his hand agian

But oh wait…

It’s gone!

F – Forgive Me

It surprised me that I liked it

The way you laid before me

Arms reaching out for some reprieve

I could see it in your eyes

Tears of glory full of grace

But I hold the rod you see

I am the one who makes you bleed

It surprised me that I liked it

So far from my conformt zone

Maybe it’s the look on your face

A sort of pain that can’t be faked

I can see you reach for a reprieve

As though that will save your life

You forget me dear for I hold the rod

I will be the one who fixes these wrongs

A/N I am not doing well… Hmmm mistakes were made. I will go over this another day.

Also pretty sure I misused the word Reprieve

Con troll me (Control)

I am struggling.

For reasons I can not control I find myself thinking of you.

And no matter how much I fight it I find that I do not have the ability to stop.

You.

Who used to feed me tasteless lies upon a platter

You.

Who used to bruise my body and scream “What’s the matter”???

As if my bleeding lips And busted up tongue

Could convey sweet words when I had none.

I should have seen it from the swastika on your chest.

You

Who hold yourself above the rest as if You

Yes you

Are a God among men

But I am lacking in faith and reasons

Once I begin to feel again I begin

To miss

You.

Who tore my dress because you said it was ugly

You.

Who blamed me for every cigarette burn and broken knobs on doors

You.

Who always swore it was my fault as you ripped my body apart.

You ripped my ravaged body apart…

And for reasons I can not control I find myself

Almost

Missing you

Yes

You

Who on our wedding day who made my legs a pretty shade of purple and blue.

You

Who called my job and told them I lied about the money that went missing that one night

Despite

Fucking despite

The fact that I was not even there

But you

Do you care?

As I struggle to find air around listless tress

Doctors and officers telling me that all will be ok

But it isn’t

It never will

Because you broke me

And made me feel a love so twisted and vicious that I become so fucking addicted

God am I so addicted

But it doesn’t matter anymore

Because I am now crawling in the floor begging for someone

Anyone

Knowing full well that it is you that I want

AND I FUCKING HATE IT!

I HATE me

But this lack of control gives me something to believe in

Because as I sit thinking of you

Yes you

Who nearly succeded in making me your wonton whore

I scream a little

While wishing for more.

Soo this is a rough draft. I do not like it at all but I forgot today was C so yea. Will post it anyways.

A little hint of me

She is sitting here

Next to me

A tainted little girl with tainted little dreams

Clawing at her throat

Twisting away from me

Am I the reason she screams, am I the reason she bleeds?

Sitting here

Next to me

A broken little girl with broken little dreams

Clawing at her eyes

Begging me to leave

I bet I am the reason that she suffers still, the reason she can’t sleep.

But for the life of me

I can not bring myself to care

Give and Take

I wanted her but I did not desire her. Maybe it was the way her head tilted when she smiled. Joy radiating from every pour just begging me to take hold. I used to dream about that smile and how it made me feel.

How It made me feel.

My heart racing with want for her. The need to take hold and possess her every being. I wished to never let go for fear that I would wake up and it would all be a dream. I guess in reality that is exactly what it was.

See, I did not desire her but I longed to control her. To feel her trembling as I splayed my hand across her chest. A finger dipping past her navel to that special place that made her quiver. I longed for it. Prayed for it. But I did not desire it.

I wonder if there was something wrong with me.

How could I, a healthy human being, not see all that she had to offer. An amazing body with a personality to match. She was the ideal being and yet I could only dream.

I often wonder what she truly thinks of me when she smiles, if she smiles still.

Does she also dream of me?

A letter

Dear Father,

I never really liked my name. As a kid I hated how it meant that I was your child. I felt that the title didn’t explain all that I was in life. Jessica, child of Jesse, a common nobody that not even her father could bring himself to love. As a child I convinced myself that the best thing to do is hate before others had the chance to hate me. I remember the few times of happiness I felt I would instantly try and force it down. I didn’t deserve happiness.

When I was 10 I decided I would give myself 10 more years of life before I killed myself. I decided this after you had yelled at me for one reason or another. I remember holding a mini funeral for myself…my little self.

I killed the part of me that made me Jessica.

Jessica was unloved and unwanted. I thought this would make life easier.

But then came the voices…and the shadows.

I hated being in small spaces. I was fine with animals lurking about but small places like bathroom and closets gave me nightmares. I could feel people staring at me. I could hear people whispering. They wanted to hurt me. They convinced me that you wanted to do the same. I couldn’t trust anyone.

Killing myself did not go as planned but it was to late to go back now.

After while the shadow became that of a little girl. Jessica had came seekimg her revenge. It got to the point where being alone was the only way to keep her at bay. I hating sleeping because she was always there. I had nightmares all the time. I would wake up crying and had to sneak into my sister bed just so I could sleep. She wasnt a huge fan of that so I would often sleep under her bed. People didn’t crawl on me or grab me when I was under her bed. During storms I would sleep under the window. It probably wasn’t the safest places but no one hurt me when it rained but they screamed, oh god did they scream so loud.

When my sister was gone I just didn’t sleep. I begin to fear the dark so stayed up crying or writing or reading. Hurting myself whenever sleep got to close.

I spent my days sleeping or reading because she couldn’t reach me during the day time. She wouldn’t dare… The consequences of my fears made it so people hated me anyways. I couldn’t prove to others that the voices where there. No one else saw the shadows.

After awhile the whispers stopped. They didn’t go away completely but they did stop.

Father, I grew up believing you hated me. This was probably because I hated myself. Even now I do not understand how you can even talk to someome as damaged as me.

I look at my daughter and I pray to whatever god is listening that she doesn’t turn out like me.

As I have aged I no longer fear the dark. Small places comfort me, especially if there is a furbaby to keep me company.

I haven’t told anyone about the voices. No one important anyways. Over the years I have actually denied them being there. But they are here. No longer yelling or whispering but I can feel them judging me. I know what it means to see or hear things.

Dear Father

I really don’t know what to do anymore. I guess I could tell you that I am fucked up but you already know it.

At least, that is what she is telling me.

Impressions

I do not hear voices I hear impressions. Emotions without words. I can feel it all bubbling behind my eyes. I don’t see figures but I get the sense that someone is watching me. I can feel them follow me. I can there eyes and every blink they make is registered in my mind.

But no

I do not see or hear people. I never have but how do I explain what I do go through. How do I tell people about my pain? They will judge me harshly and think I am lying. They will take away my daughter and tell me that I am unfit to be her mother. How do I show them that she is the only person in this world I care for. That even as I am fading she is thriving. I give all my enegery to her. Yes, I am dying. Not in the way others may think but in a way that says my body is deteriorating along with my mind. The illness I suffer from is in my head…not in a way that makes it unreal but in a way that shows that it is unseen. I am dying slowly and she is the only thread keeping me intacted. Without her I will die all the sooner.

But how do I ask for help without the world trying to kill me faster?