About A Boy

It has been 4 years. 4 very long years that my emotional wounds have healed over and been taken care of. I lost my nephew and never got to say goodbye. He was told that we were evil, menaces, and horrible people. That will always be his very last thought till he becomes an old man and we can do nothing about it. And I have accepted this.

But there are the memories that still manage to linger. I practically raised the boy. He was like my son, and we had these little things that when I listen to a certain song, see a small blue eyed blonde boy laughing in the grocery store, they all manage to crack my strength.

And last year when we managed to run into him and his mother, I managed to hold in the blow to my heart. It had felt like some darkness pulled my heart out and threw me around like a rag doll. And his aged face, now about 8, was so beautiful. But his eyes had lost his light. He was heavily medicated, staring into space, like he didn't know who we were. His pale hand was tightly holding onto his fathers. And his father told him to say hello, and when that boy looked at me I saw an empty soul. They had corrupted his bright bubbly personality into a shell. And he was just a boy.

And when they left I broke. I stood in the middle of the crowded theater hall, fell to the floor and I began to cry so hard. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see. All I could feel was my heart being torn into pieces. This wasn't my lover telling me it was over, this wasn't losing my best friend. Those feelings seemed so easy compared to this. I had grown so strong thinking of the memories of this boy, and seeing the reality just broke my entire mind. I had to be picked up by Uncle and dragged to the bathroom. And I fell against his chest and just screamed.

It was the absolute worst feeling. And I suddenly knew the pain of a parent losing her child. Why they never talk about it, and yet hold onto their useless toys and old blankets like they have so much meaning. Because their smell eventually fades, as does their presence in your own heart. And you feel like you have an empty hole in your heart. And no matter how much your heart heals those wounds, their is still these jaded scars and they will never leave.

And all this comes from a song. One song I happen to be listening to that reminds me of this boy that made me feel like I was worth something. And I realize I am not stronger than the day he left. I am only dealing with it and realizing I will never fully regain my heart back.

That was taken so long ago. The day I stopped being able to hold that sweet boy in my arms at night is the night I lost my faith.

And I will never get it back.

Becoming A Monster

I truly have this sickness. It tears me apart, and makes me feel like I am the monster they warn children about. It is an obsession of mine that I have tried and tried, till I'm on my knees and looking like death itself ate my heart right out, to walk away from.

It started when I was so young. These fantasies that would haunt me at night. They'd hover over my thoughts to the point that I was desperate to feel them out till they left my presence. I never knew what it meant, and I didn't know that the denial of its existence would make me become this desperate trash that I feel like tonight.

Tonight..it just went from something so minimal to something that made me want to not exist. To forget that I ever was alive on this planet, and simply be forgotten. Because I am a bad bug, a viral disease that should have never been planted in the hearts of the good.

I am almost ashamed to be speaking in such vague terms over what line I may have crossed tonight. If I even spoke of it in such detail that made some understanding I would be hated. Judged. And misinerpreted in the worst possible way.

I will say this..I am no monster by choice. I don't know why I am the way I am, and know nothing of why it started. But I am a biastophiliac. A sick fuck who gets theirs kicks off of others pain and tears and trauma.

I am willing to say that I am wrong. I will be condemned by the few who refuse to understand where I'm coming from, and I will openly accept responsibilty of this. And I know I need some help. I'm fucked up. My mind is a little tipsy, a little irregular. But right now I have nowhere to go and nowhere to turn to. I am alone right now.

And possibly the worst feeling for me is knowing that I am so terrified of myself and no one cares to see me. They don't want to help. Because they don't want to believe it, and it hurts the worst. To know I am this way and I can do nothing to stop it.

I just want to be saved. For gods sake, just punish me from this guilt. This extreme regret that is pulling me apart right now.

Limb by limb..piece by piece..

I am no longer holding myself right. I am just a monster.

A monster who deserves to be slayed in the worst possible way.