140807

August 14th 2007.

The day I screamed, bawled and howled like a banshee at 1.00am in the morning.
The day I ripped my heart open for "them" to see.
The day I uttered unintelligibly into the quiet, open darkness.

What-the-fuck.

What do you actually want from me?
How many times have you seen me like this?
How many times more do you want to see me like this?
Are you trying to teach me something?
Do you want me to learn something?
You want me to learn to be tougher?
How tough do you want me to be?
Do you want me to be smarter?
A better judge of character?
How much better?
Till I trust no one?
Till I am able to sniff the good from the bad?
And when I meet the good, that I still cannot like them?
How hard do you want my heart to be?
Till I cannot love anymore?
How many times do I have to get my heart ripped out?
How many's that again?
How many's good enough for you?

Are-you-not-entertained?

Am I still not smart enough for you?
How come there are so many more not so smart ones?
Why don't you pick on them?
Does it make you laugh to see me cry?
Does it amaze you that I always bounce back?
Does it upset you that I always bounce back?
Do you want to see me broken?
Do you want to see me beg for mercy?
Does it tickle your fancy to see me worship you?
Who are you?

Fuck you.

Fuck your gifts and teases and taunts.
You want to see how tough I can be, let's see who gets to the finish line first.
The finish line? That's the day I'm finished.
That's the day I die. In being.
There is no way my spirit can die, I'm sorry... tsk tsk tsk...
So as long as there's still a breath of life in me, then the finish line's not reached yet.

You're twisted.
And because of that, you've twisted me.
Because you've toyed with me. You made me.
Don't come round and tell me I'm not merciful.
What's mercy when I have known none from you?
Fuckhead.

Remember, remember.
The day I screamed, bawled and howled like a banshee at 1.00am in the morning.
The day I ripped my heart open for "them" to see.
The day I uttered unintelligibly into the quiet, open darkness.

The day I threw his gift out the window.
The day I wiped out every memory of him.

Read me now.
Read me again. And again.
Read me always.

Precious.

Read me till it cuts.
Read me till it's inscribed in your memory.
Like an open wound.
Bleed, bleed, gush, gush.
Slice it again. And again. Slice it raw.
I bleed. Warm blood. Nice red.

So beatifically beautiful to be without feeling.

Ever again.