marryingdeath

[marryingdeath]

my soul has blue balls.

funny analogy, I know, but it feels like the best comparison.

I have this pressure inside my chest waiting and begging to be released, like shaking up a cola can but refusing to open it and let all that pressure out of such a small space.

I can’t cry. I can’t feel anger. I barely feel sadness at this point.

And what would help?

someone opening my coke can.

I beg to cry. I beg to scream. I beg to just fucking feel . But there is something blocking the exit of my emotions.

[marryingdeath]

[marryingdeath]

this. this body. I miss her.

[marryingdeath]

some people lie so much

that even when they are shown the cold hard evidence-

The proof that tore you to shreds-

Made you question your existence-

deemed you unworthy and unlovable-

They are already too far lost

That they start to believe their own lies.

[marryingdeath]

it isn’t even body dysmorphia anymore, my body is actually disgusting.

[marryingdeath]

all that this April 24th “National Day” did to me was remind me of your hands on my naked body.

It made me feel weak. It made me feel everything at once all over again. It reminded me of something I want to forget.

It reminded me to never get drunk around friends no matter how much you trust them.

It reminded me to get my license to conceal carry next year; not being I’m excited to carry a gun everywhere but because I feel like I need to.

It made me finally realize no matter how much I was attracted to him, he should have never been attracted to someone half his age.

It made me feel dirty.

It made me want to skin myself to bone and throw it in the dumpster so I wouldn’t have to wait 5 more years to have a body both of their fingers have never touched—your mouth has never rested upon.

Why has depression wiped away good memories but won’t get rid of this? Why do I have to remember THIS?

It’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fair.

[marryingdeath]

the thing is, Jeep Wranglers are the cars that don’t want to be driven. and once you hit 80, it feels like they want to crumble apart.

so when I maxed out at 100 mph heading for dead mans curve, i also maxed out the volume of my music—Crash by eden (how ironic) so I couldn’t hear the wheel screaming at me to stop and couldn’t feel the tires hit every bump like a grenade going off.

I could barely even see the road through the tears and mascara caught in my eyes. all I saw were blurred colors of gray, and the yellow stripe in the center of the car. cause why stay on my side if it didn’t matter anymore? why not break the rules for once? I realized it’s called dead mans curve for a reason. going faster than even 30 mph on the turn felt like hell, so I’m sure you’ve figured out the pain I felt when my foot hit the bottom of the accelerator. I just wanted to die on my terms—not from the heartbreak or cocktails.

I probably started breaking when my heart felt like it was as well. Not but a few feet till it would’ve been too late. I’m still not sure why, but im slowly starting to not regret the choice anymore.

[marryingdeath]

this is my writing, please give proper credit.

[marryingdeath]

TW

it might have taken a few too many drinks to make me not overthink it. it might have taken a few lies to get over it. it might have taken a year to get over the denial.

but it took me a second to feel everything all at once. it took me a second to lose my voice. it took me a second to realize they were all in on it.

was it way I was passed out drunk that screamed consent? or was it the way I believed your words?

“you’re not supposed to sleep on the couch”.

“don’t be stubborn everyone is asleep”.

“there’s a bed upstairs for you to sleep in”.

the only open bed upstairs was yours.

was it the way you forced my hand into yours and follow you up the stairs that screamed consent? or was it the way you knew I wouldn’t remember what happened. that I was too weak to fight if I did. that I was half asleep. so if I couldn’t say yes—. i technically couldn’t say no.

and that was fine.

i’m still trying to justify what you did. you didn’t understand what you were doing.. you thought I was in my full senses..

maybe it was my fault, maybe I was acting too friendly maybe I wasn’t too reluctant maybe I should’ve fought even though I could barely move

the fact no one would take me seriously makes me feel like im insane. but you hurt me and you took my body then a year later took my voice.

And what sucks is

I have to live for seven years till I grow skin you’ve never touched And I have to live a lifetime of trauma and wonder what all happened And wonder why.

But you?

You probably live a life of bragging about it.

[marryingdeath]

missing you comes in waves, and tonight I’m drowning.