10:43 PM - Saturday, Sept. 17, 2005
My Constant Shadow
I see the scars slashed across my skin like a faded memory that won't go away. I am not sad. I don't feel darkanxiousparanoidlost. I just want out ... out of this relationship, but he looms over me a constant shadow. I push him away. He only laughs in my face. My secret. My shame. He holds my hand, pressing his fingers into the strength of my grasp. My nails dig deep into his chocolate brown skin. I don't want this, but I can't let go. He whispers inside my head, you don't know love. You can't know love. Not as long as I'm always inside of you, and I will always be inside of you no matter how hard you try to push me out. I forget he's there following me around everywhere I go, the kitchenbathroomlivingroomoffice. Here. Or there. He finds me and I run away. Run away from the memories. Run away from the thoughts. Run away from the past. Run away. Run away. Run away. And I am running. Running away from his white washed walls with the peeling paint, the tan colored chair with the cigarette burns, the old couch covered with smoke and sex. Away from his body pressed hard against mine, the taste of his alcohol soaked breath against my lips, the feel of his cock sliding deep inside me while my screams turn into cries and my cries turn into sobs and my sobs turn into silence. I see the scars slashed across my skin. My secret. My shame. My constant shadow. Always finding his way back inside my head.
previous - next
|