I'm glad I did not cut my arms or wrists. Not because I was afraid, but more because I don't own any long sleeved shirts. I hate questions. People prying into a life because they're bored with their own; so they ask, I'd tell, and then they would tell everyone they know. Though I had told nobody, save for one, it seemed as though everybody knew. Walking the hallways, people penetrated my outer shell, tearing at me. They knew! I panic. It becomes hard to breath, and I have to escape. I look them in the eyes, but they stare at my chest, drawn to my never-healing wound as if they could smell the dried blood.1
No! This isn't possible. It's all in my mind. I force myself to slow my erratic breath. Adapting to my new psychosis, I learn to cope with it day-to-day. I speed my walking to get past all the eyes, gleaming hungrily at me.2
I confide in my online friends(a few of them). They don't ever see me so I can avoid their eyes; their knowing eyes. I don't care how they judge me. Who will they tell? Nobody I know. But... I regret it all the same. Even in type the words "you'll find someone better" still cuts deep; maybe deeper than the one I bore on my chest. How can they say such blind statements? So beautiful; she is so beautiful. So kind, quick to laugh, quick to smile. Such a gorgeous smile. No. There is no one after her. I've seen beautiful girls before but none with such a pure light within them. seeing that light now, I cringe. The light hurts, shedding truth and realization on me and my failures. In the light is a mirror and in that mirror I see myself staring back. Yet it is not me; before my very eyes, my reflection twists in on itself and perverts any human features it may have once possessed. I look at it and realization hits me. It is... my... It's my soul.3
"What AM I?"4
I fall into darkness, suffocating. I claw and grab at the tangible evil around me, but the darkness slips through my fingers like silk. I scream.5
I wake up in a cold sweat. Squinting to see the faint glow of my watch's hands, I ascertain a rough estimate of the time. About 2:30. It was nothing new, I've been suffering of insomnia for months now, ever since then... Sometimes I remember the nightmares. Sometimes I don't. I'll remember this one until the day I die.6
Getting a glass of orange juice from my refridgerator, wishing I had something more potent(in other words, alcohol), I sit at my laptop and write some poetry. The only thing that keeps me from cutting myself is to spill my emotions into poetry, rather than spill my blood.7
And so I allow my ragged and torn life to continue...8
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
-
Your an awsome writer!
Ah Nick..........
Torn. There is a remedy, dont dispair. Hope, search and pray!
Your writing is so vivid and articulate. You have a gift.
Castaway
-
I'm glad I did not cut my arms or wrists. Not because I was afraid, but more because I don't own any long sleeved shirts.
I stopped cuz of my uniform
People used to talk about me
feel sympathy for me
And I just stared at them
feeling nothing ...
And That happened because my love was unrequited
When he accepted later on .. and broke it
I didn't know what to do
I went through hell
just .. ignored every single person in my life
Lost friends ... and you know what, i dont give
anyway ..
you're story is excellent
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
-
The combination of honesty and morbid humour works well here. There are some inconsistencies in the tense and a few other things, but the story itself is good. I have to get offline now, but if you want me to specify, just tell me. It's always easier for an outside eye to notice mistakes.
-
I liked the part where you said that you were glad that you didn't cut your arms because you didn't have any long sleeve shirts, very funny. I think when people say that you'll find someone better, they don't really know the person the way you do and don't know that connection so to them there are other people out there that are better. And i think then when people hear your story or something similiar to this from other people they don't really know what to say so they just use that a s a response. I had this friend that i really liked, i don't even know why i liked him but there was this connection between us, or so i thought anyway, and none of my friends liked him. My one friend she would always ask me why i hanged around him and told me not to waste my time on him. But there was still this connection, that connection that my friend didn't understand. There are other people out there, people that you will probably be able to connect to, maybe not the same way as you did with this girl, and there will probably always be a piece of you that wishes that you still could be with her even when you find another connection. I'm trying to break a bad habbit of comparing right now but it does get easier with time, another cliche i know. ha, this is getting kind of long and don't correct my spelling -_-. Good write hun.
-
Although it's sad that other people feel this way, I'm glad in a way that I can be understodd....
-
This is such a moving piece. You really can tell that you are writing from the heart here and that these experiences trigger real emotions. It is true that you can lie to people and they believe it, but there is always a slight paranoia that they wont believe you the next time. Your writings are very moving and there are lots of people (me included) that have been through similar things and had similar thoughts and feelings.
-
Nick - What you have given us here is raw, hard emotion. There is no bullshit, no carefully chosen words to help bring out the emotion. It's all here, and it's heartbreaking. I know what it's like have to carefully choose your skin. (you know what I mean) like you can't pick your arms because you don't have any long sleeve shirts. The people that bother me the most are the people that you notice looking, but don't ask. It's like they know deep down what that cut if from. You can lie to those that do ask. Because either they are exactly what you are and therefore cannot judge, or thier ignorance is eaily dismissable. You can tell whatever lie you wish and they will believe you. This here makes me want to cry. I'm here to talk. you know my aol sn. I'm sure you've noticed I like to bullshitand cut up but I'm here if you really need me too. I've been in your shoes, and I still have on of them on.
Take care sweety!
Adding your comment:
1 - 7 of 7
