If You Reach.. You Can Almost Touch...

I'm sat on my bed reading a book. The lamp is on, so is the radio. I pass a word in the book, a familiar word. I'm not in my bedroom anymore. I'm in his flat on his blue 3-seater sofa watching who wants to be a millionaire. He is leaning so close to me i can hear his breath, I can Feel it... he leans over me and i feel his hand move up my leg.. closer and closer until i can feel him invade, i begin to shake. I scream and hurl my book across the room. It's my room, the voices i hear are floating from the radio speakers, they dance in the air and the world drops back into place piece by piece, each causing a headache harder than stone. I leap to my feet when i can find then, and sprint to the kitchen, to the medicine cabinet. My heart pounds in my chest as i rummage. After a couple of minutes i stare at the cocktail amongst my finger tips. And end to these thoughts, theses dreams, this nightmare. 

I replace the pills to their respective boxes and jog back up the stairs. I want to cry, scream... Feel. I send my fist flying into the wall then collapse onto my bed. I lie looking at the lifeless glow in the dark stars scattered across my ceiling, the memories of a childhood which never got finished, non existent when surrounded by today's poisoned light.

It's a shame sometimes when the desirable memories are only visible amongst the dark. The ones which follow and taunt us can catch us on even the brightest of days and drag us to the depths where no light is found...

An hour passes and nothing new has crossed my mind. The same destructive and repetitive cycle has played through every fiber of my being and the final threats connecting me to this life are beginning to fray. My thoughts are the only path to him. He is real within them, even more real to me now than when he corrupted  my dissociative body and mind in the previous years. Because now i remember, and now i am afraid of what else lies within my thoughts. I'm alone in this world but he is always willing to offer a loving hand in the world of my though. A loving hand that burns, a loving hand that will one day lead me off the edge, that will one day guide that blade through my veins and arteries Or that will one day walk me off that bridge. 

No one knows how truly afraid i am:

That one day i wont be able to scream. 
That one day i wont return those pills,
I cant escape that possessive daydream,
It suffocates and slowly kills...

For life is only short and the more we live the shorter it gets... 



LunaWolff LunaWolff
18-21, F
1 Response Jan 18, 2012

thanks for sharing lunawolf