theredhobbit

[theredhobbit]

Sometimes, I wake up sobbing.

They're all dead.

This mother shaped hole in my heart aches with every beat.

An entire side of my family, all relocated to the highland memorial gardens neighborhood.

She's dead.

The home that every child is born to.

The one they're supposed to be able to rely on.

The hurricane force winds that would be dealt to those inflicting pain upon me. Silent. Still.

They're all dead.

And I'm alone.

[theredhobbit]

Well fuck lmao

[theredhobbit]

I'm a gold medalist in pity parties.

I will add the table leaf so there's more room for shame.

Choosing the finery to distract from the blame.

Combinations of plates and saucers bounce around in my head,

Clanking over the sound of me screaming, "EVERYONE'S FUCKING DEAD".

I only have these Belgian dishes with gold edges that mock because I'm also a regular at the cemetary,

my kin live around this little block.

Set the table and place the flowers properly

Drag out your cutlery and stress over imagined mockery.

I will sit here at this table with my shame and grief abounded

For in my mental pity party, at least I feel surrounded.

[theredhobbit]

I started cutting because at a particular point in my lif I ran afoul of a certain unique set of circumstances for which neither experience nor my own emotional constitution had equipped me.

I can’t say what precise conjunction of factors led me to choose self-mutilation as my recourse, nor can I say how my life might have been different if any one of these factors had been otherwise.

All I can say is that my skin itself seemed to cry out for an absolution in blood.

-Ditto

[theredhobbit]

…I needed to kill something in me, this awful feeling like worms tunneling along my nerves. So when I discovered the razor blade, cutting, if you’ll believe me, was my gesture of hope. … All the chaos, the sound and fury, the uncertainty and confusion and despair—all of it evaporated in an instant, and I was for that moment grounded, coherent, whole. Here is the irreducible self. I drew the line in the sand, marked my body as mine, its flesh and its blood under my command –ditto

[theredhobbit]

When I stopped cutting, it was only because I could afford to, because my need for it had apparently run its natural course, like the fever the body mounts to fight off an infection, that subsides when the danger is past. –ditto

[theredhobbit]

I kept cutting because it worked.

When I cut, I felt better for a while.

When I cut, my life no longer overwhelmed me.

I felt too keenly the threat of chaos, of how things can get away from you in a Ithousand ways…

Entropy keeps eating at the ramparts, and I cut to try to shore them up. –ditto

[theredhobbit]

You might imagine that a person would resort to self-mutilation only under extremes of duress, but once I’d crossed that line the first time, taken that fateful step off the precipice, then almost any reason was a good enough reason, almost any provocation enough.

Cutting was my all-purpose solution.

My scars ought to be a charm bracelet of mnemonics, each a permanent reminder of its precipitating event, but maybe the most disturbing thing I can say about the history of my cutting is that for the most part I can’t even remember the whens and the whys behind those wounds.

It didn’t take much to make me cut.

Frustration, humiliation, insecurity, guilt,remorse, loneliness—I cut ’em all out. They were like poison, caustic, and destructive, as though lye had been sip honed into my veins.

The only way I could survive them, I thought, was to keep draining them from my blood. –ditto

[theredhobbit]

"I have boundary issues with men.

Or maybe that’s not fair to say.

To have issues with boundaries, one must have boundaries in the first place, right?

But I disappear into the person I love.

I am the permeable membrane.

If I love you, you can have everything. You can have my time, my devotion, my ass, my money, my family, my dog, my dog’s money, my dog’s time—everything. If I love you, I will carry for you all your pain, I will assume for you all your debts (in every definition of the word), I will protect you from your own insecurity, I will project upon you all sorts of good qualities that you have never actually cultivated in yourself and I will buy Christmas presents for your entire family. I will give you the sun and the rain, and if they are not available, I will give you a sun check and a rain check. I will give you all this and more, until I get so exhausted and depleted that the only way I can recover my energy is by becoming infatuated with someone else.

I do not relay these facts about myself with pride, but this is how it’s always been."

[theredhobbit]

I think I could love you

better than anyone.

I can't stop making mental reels of all the times I almost told you.

How many times throughout the moments we have that I just want to repeat that over and over till you finally say it back.

Maybe a part of me doesn't even mind if you don't actually mean it.

[theredhobbit]

Daydreaming about your rhythmic breathing.

Fretting and betting on not being on your mind at all.

Standing at my window thinking of running but staying close to the needs that glue me to this all.

The roots in my responsibilities and the flightiness of my youth

[theredhobbit]

The sunrise draped over us like my hair across your pillow.

Holding you, holding space, and holding my breath, relishing in the chance to exist alongside you.

I don't enjoy being touched, but your hands let me imagine I'm made of velvet.

Please tell me we don't have to leave this bed.

Reality hits like triple H.

I remember that I'm iust me,

And you're you.

This unattainable guy who probably doesn't even realize how much space you're taking up in my head.

[theredhobbit]

I just really need it to be a love story. You know?

I really need it to be that,

Because if it isn't a love story, then what is it?

For the sanctity of my mind, I'm begging the universe to unravel this conundrum.

Why keep placing my hand back in the fire, thinking the healing will get easier the next time.

I really need this to be a love story. Because if it isn't, then it's a pathetic story, and I can not bring my spirit to accept anything less than you.

If this ends as just friends, then I must ask myself, where in the hell did I misinterpret?

I want this to be a love story.

Even if it's not something, we're both quite aware it's also not nothing.

It takes all the audacity to call us friends because we both know we're past that.

[theredhobbit]

He told me, "Keep twirling

It's the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

And spun till I felt dizzy, like a drunken celtic queen.

Catch me in the morning

Before the fight or flight kicks in

Before the shame of leaving your bed with your scent still on my skin

Even though I fully know how to measure up the risks, your blue eyes are etched into my brain and hands embossed on my hips.

[theredhobbit]

[theredhobbit]

I'm standing here with my heart in one hand and my backbone in the other.

I offer them to you freely.

The blood dripping is included with no extra charge.

You already have my mind trapped inside itself, constantly on a hypnotic looping record of me sobbing at you and your enigmatic silent disgusted look.

Take them!

Take them!

I'm beginning to get cold.

Please just take them.

Theyre far too fucking heavy for me to old.

[theredhobbit]

The wind is howling like the self destrictuveness in my head. Longing for the dull heat of the south where even in my melancholy winters I was able to stay warm enough to consistently feel alive and not slowly more and more like a corpse.

The cold gives the sadness grace enough to settle into my bones. Please give me the knife. So I may scrape and slice this out from my cartilage. Bring me the fire and antiseptic spray so I can cauterize the wounds of necessary excavation.