(WARNING: GORE, BLOOD, AND EXTREME VENT)
I lied about many things in my life, but the biggest lie was how I was feeling.
I thought it wouldn't affect me much, but inside it was eating me up, and it plagued me, a piercing pain that got sharper with each level.
Digging into my flesh and then into the bone, sawing through each layer, making the feeling unbearable. Blood and guts popping through the skin, and not even a bandage could heal it.
I would try to bite my lip to avoid it, hide it away with curses beneath my tongue, but people started to notice it too. Started to see the intestines dragging from my stomach, pulling me down, and not even the tears could hold back the truth. Even if I bore a fake smile like everything was alright deep down, I could see the damage that it done to me.
How my lips sealed tight and how my teeth tore through my jaws, clawing at the inside and begging for words to spill out. But none did, instead I would let the intestines drag, ignoring the signs from the doctor and people around me.
I know they were trying to help, but you can't help a flawed person, a person leaking out their insides, refusing to die. You can't save them, no matter how many words you tell them, how many sweet lies you try to fill them with in order to make them feel better. They know their situation, and that's exactly what my brain told me, making it worse by mentally torturing me.
Making sure that I wouldn't get help, that I wouldn't try to put the organs back in, because I didn't deserve to have them back in my body. I deserved the pain, and I deserved the sharp weapon that made it happen to me.
No matter how hard I tried to fight it, the inside of my cranium would bring out my biggest faults. Expose how the organs were changing color because of its prolong exposure and I would agree.
I looked sluggish, sloppy, and unfit to society, a zombie to humanity that people wanted to ignore but couldn't. I was harsh on the eyes, and something that would make you want to vomit, and it was sad, depressing. A burden to the people around me that would have to deal with this, the continued self/harming words, and the putrid smell that would follow me around.
So much, I wish I could end the burden, the words inside that burn the sides of my forehead. The way that I look on the outside, the way my eyes sag after staying up all night. Plus, the horrid way my body twitches after a repeated sound, the involuntary jump that I can't stop, as my ears cry at the repeated tapping.
How the words around me irritate the inside of my eardrums, and how my very existence makes me crumble inside.
How I wish that I could go back to the innocence I once had as a child before I was stabbed so deeply in the back. Adulthood shoving its arm down my throat with huge 50mg pills to follow, no water.
How I wish that I believed I could be saved, that simple water could wash away the sins of my inner disgust and longing for the end of my existence. I imagine different ways that people would wash away the memory of the day of my very birth.
The simple itch that comes from my scalp as I lie my body on the bottom of the floor, waiting for myself to become a fossil. Waiting for all the blood to drain out as hunger becomes a thing of the past.
Drifted mine aging me as each decade makes each year seem like a century and the insides of my body start to mold as if I was a sat out flower. The linear thought process of my mind not changing as everything around me moves on, except me.
A stupid, ignorant, flesh-being that happened to get lucky at birth, almost dying because of complication,s yet still defected. Barely able to take the trials of life as it beats me up like a boxer, not letting me hit any blow as people around me spit at my tears.
Battery on empty as I'm running on an empty wheel, sorry excuse for a daughter, and sorry excuse for an aging child. Being proud was erased from my vocabulary as every disappointment heightened in my case.
No pill is able to save my failure of a brain, as no one could hurt something that was already broken, already faulty in its job.
The damage already done to the core, like a rotten apple infected with worms, tears leaking like an overflow of water spilling into the sea. Rain is no match for the wretched wrath that the soul inside is being dealt, poison a remedy compared to the words of the mind.
Empty rushes shooting the peak of the heart, repeated the same mistake time and time again, no matter the situation. The words never going away and the brain not getting better, growing in demise and shrinking in consciousness.
Eyes tired, brain exhausted, knowing inside I deserve to hear better, to think better. Even if I died so many times in my mind, I still deserve to live. To be free of this plague that tortures my very soul. Even if the entire world were to grow to hate me, I deserve to be my own cheerleader.
To be the only one for myself, even if no one else is, even if it is only the man above. I deserve love, even if a simple organ in my body tells me I don't. If the pills don't work or the herbs, and I have a knife near my very throat, at least let me have my cake first.
Let me eat it before the blood spills, and let me enjoy it without all the extra noise, let the quiet sink in and let it take over...
For just this once.