Friday, 1 January 2010

Poem for the past

Just been surfing the net and checking all my mentalist websites when I found this on Madnotbad.  I think it sums me up in 2003/04 when life was far, far worse than it is now, when I hit rock bottom and started to get professional help.  Unfortunately, the professional help was not adequate hence a reoccurance and many more years of therapy (I dooo try). Anyway, I think she sums up my state of mind and actions at the time way better than I could ever say (I tend to draw).

Without You

Just a little cautionary note: This poem may be TRIGGERY for some. Keep yourself safe and please don't read it if you think it'll badly affect you. If you need help or support, please see the resources section or contact The Samaritans.
Take Care, xxx R
I am without. Without you, an outsider, a spectator upon what life could have been for me, and what it could never have been. There is much that is beyond the realm of possibility. A love that is anything other than destructive and unrequited. A sense of belonging.
I can blame no one but myself. For who would desire my stifling, claustrophobic adoration? The type of love that has four walls, growing ever closer. Suffocating.
I cannot help but remember the time when you did. Did you? How could you have loved me? You did. You were mine, and I was yours. Yet at the same time, memory and fantasy become blurred, reality and falsehood indistinct from one another.
Truth eludes me.
I wanted to hold you in my arms. Wanted to gather up every piece of you and hold you and protect you. To destroy the world that was not us. Of course I did not.
Some things never change.
You were gone in a second. Was I yours? Your only source of comfort? Did you love me as I loved you? You were mine. You trusted me.
The world was spinning. Retching painfully, my eyes burning with…tears? How
could this be? I was crying … I cried. I don’t cry. I cried for you, but mostly for myself. Selfish as ever. Every tear that fell driving me further into my frenzy of self-loathing.
Loathsome. Unlovable. Unworthy.
I’ve been living to see you for so long. Too long you have been the only passion in my life. Destructive love. I cried then…I cannot cry any more.
I hate you so much for leaving me … I love you endlessly. I wish I could hurt you like you hurt me, but more than anything I want this numbness to end. I want to see if I still feel.
A knife. A blade. So sharp … so beautiful.
A clenched fist, a shiver. Tensed. A flash of silver, and a hiss of breath. Release.
A pain I can feel. Real. An emotion I can understand. Control. A pause, then a trickling red stream. This is not enough. I need more. I tear at my own flesh, begging it to bleed, begging it to pour.
I always needed more. This is the only way. Will you even know? Will anyone? I want you to know I love you.
Cutting … This is not good enough … Slashing ... You were never good enough … deeper and deeper … No one wants you. No one will want you now … A crimson torrent … Carved … No one will love you like this … Frantic … No-one will miss you. You won’t even care … Don’t stop … More … don’t fail at this too … you always were a failure … just don’t stop …
Far away, I hear someone is screaming. Someone is sobbing. Do you cry for me? Do you love me too? Do you even care?
I never did know when to stop. All I wanted was for you never to stop loving me. All I wanted was for the pain to stop.
by Seva

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