Swallowed whole, the entire family unit, all down in twisting flames. I can't go on. He hits her and she screams and I stay hidden away, terrified and swinging on the edge, wishing to God I could let go and just plummet to the bottom. It wouldn't be a long fall anyway.
My heart is aching and torn out of my chest and I see it still beating by my feet, somehow pulsing on its own, discarding the fact its torn out of my chest and I should be dead. I wish I wasn't tired.
The demons are out, prowling through the walls, rattling the pipes and creaking the floors. Demons that sting and are small and shimmery yellow-brown and clear and slide inbetween everything. There are cuts and there are bruises that come to easy and there is anger. Anger that swallows everything.
There is screaming. There is violence and there is degradation. There are tears and violence in my face, screaming and anger and a passive mother sitting on the couch. Oh well. Oh well, who cares, she's only my daughter.
She's broken anyway. She's broken forever and she's in the pit and we've put her there and she'll never get out.
Oh well. Oh well.
Words are a curious thing; they're easy to say and harder to do. There are a lot of lies. I sit on the biggest pile of all, still wishing I was dead.
"I wish you didn't exist."
Oh, don't worry. So do I.
Swallow it down, I wish it was pills. Its just the truth being swallowed and I smile at friends and nothing is wrong. Because I'm invincible.
In the car. She turns her head and stares at me, her face scrunched and anxious. "Don't kill yourself please." I laugh and we joke, and I tease that I would never think such a thing. She's still serious, but less so, and I can see I've won. Get off my back.
I'm filthy. I'm dirty. I'm covered in vomit and its not even enough; I wish there was /more/. More volume and I wish there was blood; maybe then I'd be satisfied. There is nothing. A year of my life is missing! No one remembers. Fabulous.
I hear something hit the wall and I run. Sirens are outside my window and I'm tearing at myself, knocking on their door, sobbing and screaming. GET HIM OUT.
God, get him out. He's prowling still, aloof and cold and he has no heart. I'm not safe here. I'm not safe.
I cry 'Oh my god' and I'm violent to the car and am thankful to be gone.
Fuck you both.
I want to be left alone, so I leave. Its not enough.