Sometimes I make myself tingle,
Going round and round
Seeing the blurred bright colors
Feeling the electricity
And I never want it to end,
I never want to leave this place of pure bliss,
Where skin meets skin and sweat and body fluids mingle
I don’t want to think about my mommy issues, suppressed rage or my increasing urge to kill myself.
Yet, I know it’s there,
I feel it; it’s as familiar to me as the scent of my body odor.
I’m sinking now,
Getting cold and remote,
I ached for the cover of darkness and isolation
Sunlight hurts and light burns,
I yearn for a cool, musky place
Where I can feel no pain and have no expectations,
Where no one can have expectations of me;
It’s dark here, devoid of light, smell and sound.
Yet I can hear them, whispering… calling to me.
Telling me filthy, hateful things,
Teasing me, pushing me…
Thrashing around in my head and I can’t take it anymore.
Please make it stop,
Make it stop… make it stop… please
Screaming does nothing, but I do it nevertheless
I just want to make it stop
I’m in a prison of my own device
Of my own head and my own mind
Wanting to escape, but never being able to
I wish I could go back to the bright lights and furious sex.
Yet the voices constantly whisper to me,
“There is no escape”
“Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide”
There comes a time when I feel as though I can’t go on, yet, my treacherous heart continues to pump blood around my body.
Then, I realize… for me to survive, I have to embrace it
Embrace the madness and the stigma
Embrace the resilience and creativity of my prison
Knowing that they are a part of me
Just as the sweat and heat
Just as the pain and pleasure,
I’m stuck in a cycle destined for misery,
Bright lights then deep darkness
But that’s the reality of my life
No fairytale, no happy ending
So I guess mother, I will always be your SPECIAL child.