|beautiful vestiges of self-destruction
Author: mktoddsparky PM
/The blade digs in again- Weak. so weak. "I know," the last vestiges of myself whisper. "I know."/ What feels like an ending and is really only an existence. Dark.Rated: Fiction M - English - Hurt/Comfort/Angst - Words: 368 - Published: 09-30-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3062268
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
beautiful vestiges of self-destruction
a/n: Urgh, I'm sorry it's so depressing and blehh. I'm just not in a good place right now and needed to get it out on paper, out of damn head. The grammatical structure and stuff is purposeful, in case any of you wonder why some stuff is capitalized, some not, etc. Love you all(:
I don't know what you held onto to get this far,
but I need some too
Because I'm slipping from existence
and there's just no resistance to stop this all from happening
but it feels so good,
Knowing I had the courage to press down.
they don't mean it
don't listen to your head-
tightening more until it's hard to breathe.
choking. wanting to cry,
but having no tears.
my tear ducts have been clawed out,
ripped from me.
"you're god's disappointment."
Oh, trust me. I know.
need my blade.
digging through my purse, but,
oh. Oh no.
it's at home.
how could you forget it,
you weak, worthless bitch.
i'm so sorry.
grabbing a plastic knife, fleeing,
but it doesn't draw blood.
it's only a poor, fledgling imitation.
at home, later,
sliding down the back of my door,
a sob catching in my throat,
so very dry, blistering heat.
head spinning as i cradle your blade,
that precious tool,
press it against my skin and
a rumbling sigh escapes as i
watch the blood.
the pounding in my head goes away,
and I float.
I float far, far away.
somewhere below me,
past the grey fog,
I search my phone for someone
to talk to, someone to listen.
but there's no one.
and besides, how could you be that selfish?
worrying other people
when you have no intention of stopping.
making them worry…
The blade digs in again-
"I know," the last vestiges of myself whisper. "I know."