Echo

Get out of my head. All the hateful, vile things spoken into our lives. Stop bouncing. Stop splintering off. Shrapnel and ricochets tearing new wounds in old scars. Fresh blood.

My skin should be ten foot thick by now. But im tired. Weary and wore threadbare.

Am I just the list of adjectives you use to call me out of name until your rage fizzles out and your storm clears ?

Then follows, your sorry, you will do better.

See, your nothing new under the sun. Fat ass whore was a favorite, maybe I was 8-9?

The list is endless. As my immunity to one insult grows, a new one is found.

I am tired, I said that already. You don’t believe. You don’t see the self loathing, insecure thoughts, when I take the words and stack them up tetris style to fill in the picture of me and I become useless and worthless and selfish and, and, and, and….

Not everyone has the strong foundation of who they are with the rebar of ego in the pilings to shrug off self doubt.

Some are more a house of cards and mirrors.

or stone weathered to pebbles.

Or just fortresses with gaping holes in the fortifications.

Just cease and desist.

Your broken parts that cause your anger and frustration and rage and temper and pain and fear. I see them.

And they see me, and see the weak sister.

My insecurity isnt your making. Its been shaped and honed by all those before you. Your nothing new under the sun.

And I stay. Because ?

This is love ?

Or because this is what all the love I have known has felt like ?

We can both learn better. We knew it once. “We have forgotten the face of our fathers” Steven King, Circa the Gunslingers. Or maybe in my case I am remembering mine too well ?

We are creatures of thought and passion.

I would ask why ? And you could ask the same.

And the echos of words in empty halls rattle glass and knock pictures askew.

And this war that is raging with armistice days just long enough to catch our collective breaths.

I was born into a life of battle. I sought refuge in you, scared and broken. Running from a protracted war still bleeding and shell shocked.

Your promised peace and broke it.

And next ?

For fucks sake, WHAT next ?

Our own holy war lasting infinity.

When you fell in love, did you think here is a woman I can destroy ?

I pray to all the gods that isn’t the truth.

Listen hard and find the echo of the things you loved in me. Find that again ?

And the next time you are frustrated with me or existence or the universe, let that be first from your mouth.

Why did you love that girl, with the blue green eyes who trembled under your touch.

Think of her, before your tell the me in front of you to shut her fucking cock sucker because the me before you flared your temper or a car cut you off in traffic twenty minutes before you stood before me.

Let the echos fade. Please, so that the girl who smiled up at you isnt snuffed out like flame.

Sia King also said ” If you love me, then love me”

LOVE/HATE

“I have never lost a night of sleep over you,  and I never will” 

You said it. Seems like it sums up everything so well doesnt it?

I have laid awake countless nights. In worry,  in sorrow,  in longing, in tears. 

And I have never caused you a sleepless night. 

What is lacking in me that after all we have been through together the only emotion I can evoke inside of you is anger?  

The sorrow in me to know that all these years no single night have you stared at the ceiling replaying us in your head, looking for a better way.  Wanting to just connect to me.  That I never have meant enough to you to cause even a toss and turn.  

I have cried an ocean of my feelings for you,  and I am not even worth a puddle. 

God its sickening thick and clogging my mouth and throat.  

It hurts me and you don’t bat an eye. Because “words have no power alone, only what power you give them “, listen to you justify any verbal assault. 

I am not blameless. I am viscious when cornered and wounded. 

I provoke when my threshold has been breached. But still, I try to be aware of how far is too far. Where the line lies between anger and unforgivable. 

Will I break and cross ?  Have I with out knowing said the thing that echos in your brain ?  Would I know ?  As hostile as our border has become. Petty hurt guarding the front lines. 

You sleep well. I know, I listen to your measured breathing as I replay your words. Wondering which are true. 

Your undying love or your deep fiery rage. 

Subtropical

“No man is an island unto himself” who said that? Oh yeah, John Donne, few hundred years ago.

He didnt mean it like I hear it. But, taking things out of context is most definitely a super power of mine.

We need others, most of us anyway.

Except you. Push me away.

What I think and feel matters.

You dont get to explain it away.

And yes, I look too deep sometimes. And yes I over analyse EVERYTHING.

See the boogyman in 2am darkness and 2pm shadows.

Close my eyes and see faces in smoke, demonic and writhing in pain or is it gleeful expectation of mine as they skin me alive in my dreams ?

The terminology “fires of hell” paints a picture right ?

Cold can burn to the bone too. When you lock me out, shut me down.

Yesterday I melted. I yelled and cried and poured out my raw unfiltered broken pain.

And it was met with justifications and reasons why I am wrong.

And even the ports I seek shelter and comfort to ease and rub balm on my wounds informed me that I choose this bumpy road.

I know that they are right. And that stings all the more. But I cant keep coming back to them with the same pain, the same complaint, the same tears and expect them to continue to whisper the same platitudes and not feel frustration and dismay at my hardheaded repetition of the same injuries.

I want to say that I am sorry to put them through it on my behalf. Because I am not an island. The tides around me ebb and flow, my waters touch other shores bringing my storms to their ports.

I am sorry for you also that you dont see the intricate life that eddys between us. That you believe each storm you weather is just yours alone. And that each time you crash against me damage is done and gone when your rage spins itself out.

And there is no FEMA, no disaster Relief. Just me wrecked on the rocks.

People who love me are damned tired of picking up these pieces.

I am growing tired of even the sunshine between the storms. It just cant reach all the darkness.

Is it my fault ? For hardening my heart.

Or yours for repeated sins ?

Does it even really fucking matter ?

I allow it, you continue it.