Saturday, December 20, 2014

keep trying

But you will never be forgiven for your sins.

Friday, December 5, 2014

how do you ask, how dare you ask

how do you ask someone to please please just wait. i can explain, the cloud, it is not permanent.

the howling animal i had locked up, there in the back of my mind. i swear i tried. i stacked so many boxes in front of that fucking door. she scratched and mewled, i could hear her pacing.
the howling animal, she's out now. she's circling me in this dark room. her fingers are in my hair.
i got a little cocky, i thought hey i'm doing great. but the weather grayed and i stopped working. my fingers and hands got restless again. i walked past the door more and more. pondering the boxes in front of it, trying to remember what i had stored in there. so i sat, and started to dig.
i went too far.
pushed all the boxes aside and pressed an ear to the door.... and waited. this time though, i didn't hear pleading... i heard laughing.
what did you think, stephanie. that i would starve?
huh. i certainly had hoped so.
oh fuck it hurts. it is like being eaten away by acid ingested, slow burning corrosive complete. a pull on a string tied to my insides, the beginning of unraveling. i don't understand this, i never have. the darkness closing it's lips around me.
i curled downward toward the floor, sobbing with a sense of grief so great i could taste it. salt and hot water, just trying to hold myself tight enough that i don't spill and circled towards the drain. what is this. please stop, please please...
he's leaving for work. i'm sure he's tired, i'm sure he has so much going on in his head too.but i'm dying. i feel like i'm dying. the sudden insanity, the tears flooding, the hurt from advances spurned. he must think this is all about sex but in reality i am struggling. he must think i'm such a fucking girl but really i'm trying to make sure i can stand up. can i stand up? drinking nyQuil in the middle of the day because i just need to sleep this off, but somehow it's not kicking.
the animal, the thing, it's curling into a ball by my feet. cold comes off it in waves and makes my spirit go black with worry and a heavy pounding. it smells like the NICU and gunpowder. i'm a little dizzy. 
how do i ask him to just hold on. just wait till i get some sun on my face and i can go back to work.
please my darling, this will pass. i'm fighting as hard as i can. but goddamn, you picked the most broken toy from the shelf, with lacquer and thick dark hair but a bundle of wires and sharp debris where batteries once nestled.
i'm trying.
and i'm so sorry.

just wait.