devilsbrokenwinged-angel - Tumblr blog

[devilsbrokenwinged-angel]

In the quiet corners of my soul, we often find the deepest confessions about ourselves. It's in those moments of stillness that we discover our calm, our peace, and our serenity. I've wandered through such depths, embracing the healing journey that has put the darkest corners of my being in the spotlight.

Yet, in the middle of the echoes of healing, I've encountered a paradox — a love affair with my illness. It's not a love that seeks attention or validation; rather, it's a silent bond woven into the fabric of my existence. I don't flaunt it, for how could I when I'm constantly wrapped in layers of clothing, battling the chill that spread throughout my bones?

The exhaustion creeps in, more pronounced than before, yet I pin it to the side effects of my heart medication. Low blood pressure, they say, a common companion of the pills I swallow each day. So, when dizziness whispers its presence, I nod along, a silent agreement with fate.

Meals become a ritual of omission. "You haven't eaten all day?" The words echo with concern, met only by my silent acceptance. I won't confess the truth — that nourishment dances on the edges of my routine, appearing occasionally, if at all. I offer apologies for others who mention their forgotten breakfasts and hungry lunch hours, a dance of normalcy in my world where hunger is an expected guest.

Yet, in the middle of the shadows of my illness, there is growth. Parts of me have flourished, basking in the light of self-discovery and resilience. Others linger in the twilight, tending to wounds that heal at their own pace. And there, in the intersection of light and shadow, lies acceptance.

For in the depths of my being, I've learned to love even the parts touched by darkness. They are threads in the tapestry of my existence, weaving a story of resilience and perseverance. I've made peace with the paradox, embracing the duality of healing and affection for my illness.

As I tread the path ahead, I carry with me the wisdom of acceptance — a beacon of light in moments of uncertainty. For within the embrace of acceptance lies the truest form of healing — the acknowledgment of all that I am and all that I have yet to become.

50.8

[devilsbrokenwinged-angel]

Dad?

.

.

.

.

*the floorboards creak*

.

I am my father's daughter.

Your affair, shattered my perception of you as a father and that of what a husband should be. It was an incredibly painful and confusing time to learn about it, but I have come to understand that we're all imperfect in our own ways and that mistakes do happen.

I have also come to realize that I have no right to judge. I'm a homewrecker too. I destroy families too. I blame it on being young and naïve, I play the victim because of past trauma and your lack of presence and affection.

I was so scared your depression was heredity.

Little did I know I already inherited some of your traits and tendencies. The same ones that led you to make the choices that you did, led me to make the choices that I made.

I repeated the same mistakes you did, I hurt people I cared about and cause damage to my own relationship. I can't blame you for my choices or my feelings, I have to take responsibility for my actions.

I could have learned from your past mistakes, yet I'm bettering it. I found alternative ways to hide it to change the course of my future. It almost became like a personal goal you see.

Dad 5 - Daughter 3

I'm almost there dad.

.

.

I switched off my emotions you see. I stopped feeling. I have no remorse left in me for my actions.

.

I want to say I'm the monster you created, but I am not going to give you the honor.

You however taught me how to stay a step ahead of my enemy.

.

.

.

I am my father's daughter, after all.

You proud yet?

[devilsbrokenwinged-angel]

Would you believe me if I said;

I missed you today

I missed your way with words and how it flowed from your mouth so effortlessly, weaving stories and emotions, manipulating me and gaslighted me, making me feel like I was the crazy one. The way you swore and called me names.

How you lied to me and got me to do things I never thought I would do and how you threatened my life, putting me in dangerous situations on more occasions than I can count one both hands. How you hurt me mentally and physically, breaking me down until I was nothing but a shell of a person, a person I no longer recognized.

I missed how you knew I was weak and preyed on my insecurities feeding them fire only to watch them burn instead of helping me overcome them.

I miss the late-night 'conversations' you had with my mind and body.

I miss your strong physical touch, you remember, the physical touch where you laid hands on me, how you told me and made me believe that I deserved it. I had to remind myself of things like “It could have been worse” or “It only happened a few times.” or better yet "It was only this once, it won't happen again." You led me to believe that I had done something wrong and that it was all my fault.

I found myself yearning for your physical touch. The one where you could make the world fade away.

I miss how thoughtful you were, those comforting embraces while filling my head with empty promises, promising me that 'you'll change.' Your actions were never hasty; they were always carefully considered. A demonstration of your true intentions.

I miss how you were the perfect poster boy to the world and in moments alone you used me as your punching bag because your friends have life better than you or because I sneaked a shy smile to a friend. How you slammed my head against the wall knocking me off balance enough to not put up a fight while you strip me bare.

I was your ragdoll. To use, abuse and throw away when done, not once, not twice, but multiple times. I felt defeated and broken. You destroyed every part of me that you could, my mind, body and spirit.

You abused me physically, mentally, and emotionally.

You made me feel alone and you made sure that to be true too.

You caused some of my darkest days while dragging me down to the depths of rock bottom.

What we had, was far from love.

I got away from you and it's been years since. But I missed you today and many days before.

I don't long to go back to you, nor am I asking to rewrite our story.

I just miss how you talked to me and laid your hands on me the way you did, because I didn't deserve what you did then, but I do believe I deserve it now.

xx

TWYWGR**

[devilsbrokenwinged-angel]

I hope that someday, somebody wants to hold you for 20 minutes straight, and that is all they do. They don’t pull away. They don’t look at your face. They don’t try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms, without an ounce of selfishness in it.

[devilsbrokenwinged-angel]

I’m not sure which is worse: intense feeling, or the absence of it.

[devilsbrokenwinged-angel]

Feeling too much can hurt sometimes,  but one day you grow and realize that your heart was never really broken.

It was just wide open.

[devilsbrokenwinged-angel]

Nobody can find out how much I need love.

I wanted so obviously and so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love.

I wanted to be loved so desperately that my fingers shook with it.

I am not beautiful, but I could be.

I was always hungry for love and just once I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it; to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more.

Just once.

But the thing I will never admit to anyone that has met me, is how desperately I wanted to be loved. I don't think I could utter a word if I had the opportunity to say it.

Say how I want someone to hold my wrists, kiss my palms and smile at me, want me, need me and crave me.

I want to be wanted and I don't know how long poetry or songs will have to be the substitute for being wanted.

I don't want to beg.

I know you can feel it, my longing, the aching, my need for love.

I don't want to beg.

But oh-god; Oh God, please.

Please.

Love me.

Please just... Love me.

[devilsbrokenwinged-angel]

The Devil was once an angel, but he chose to embrace darkness instead of light. His fall from grace reminds us that even the most beautiful being can be corrupted by their own desires. Once the brightest star in heaven, now the darkest in hell. But he could change. He was once an angel and may be evolving still.

While he evolves I will ascend his throne as princess of darkness and embrace the beauty hell has to offer, because only in the darkness can you see the stars and only then can you recognize the beauty of the moon.