View Full Version : Burn your lips.

04-08-12, 09:09 PM
I only started showing anyone my "creative" writing a couple of years ago... it's not structured, it comes out in the leaps that my thoughts do so it's cluttered.

You do the math you expect the trouble. The drums beat like they're trying to tell me something. I relish the damage it might do to me. I relish the damage it will do to me. I've been wearing these bruises for a week now. I've never felt more at one with myself until recently. I won't label it. I look in the mirror and I look at my face. I look at my body and at least I like it because it is mine. It's mine. I do not share it with many. He looks at me with an intense obsession and I only started to notice the flecks of green. His eyes are not completely brown. A lot of people breathe smoke but don't feel the fire. I've always wanted to feel the fire. If I told you, you wouldn't understand. He told me I know myself well.

I always wanted to be here and I always wanted to be in education. I always wanted to drown myself in my work and I have finally succeeded. It's not all so amazing... for the past week I have felt like I was dying. Last night the pain in my chest was so bad it felt like someone was squeezing my internal organs with their fist. I curled up on the bathroom floor and hugged it like it was my friend and thought how this pain was worth it. The nights became days and I wasn't sure whether I was awake or asleep anymore. I've been trying to rebuild, but next week I plan to wreck myself again. There's something inside my bones that screams for it, and as much as I say I won't do this I won't do this I won't do this... I will do this. He saves me in a way I can't put into words. I am his freedom and he is mine. I am in my truest form a masochist. It's not a dirty word but a pattern of behaviour. I am testing my body to its limits, I am finding escapism. f**k me till I can't breathe anymore. This is who I am and I understand myself now. I want to be free and I want to run wild with the wind. I want to reach that higher level. I want to see how far I can go. My nails are painted blood red. I am escaping the boundaries of this world and I am running with it till I don't feel like I am human anymore. He is making this into an art form. He is making me into an art form. He thanked me for the freedom I gave him. I told him I couldn't deal anymore. Am I stronger than I thought? My nails etch into his back and it feels like I transcended somewhere beyond. When I was quite young I visited Chartres Cathedral in France. We walked in and there were organs playing. I remember feeling complete awe and beauty. My mother tells me I am more musical than she as she cannot remember organs even playing but it's something I remember like it was yesterday. I found all my old art work. I have always been this way but now I understand better. Now I can share it. Now I can explain it. f**k me till I can't breathe. Starve till I feel completely empty. Cut until it makes a pretty mark. Sick till I find that relief. These are not problems. I've always been completely comfortable with who I am.