there i am

i wasnt but i was and it felt horrible. ive chronicled every aspect of it in my mind, all my notebooks, scattered everywhere, it stains every cup and can and cigarette. its smeared over my body like shit and mud. i thought id be safe, from myself, from him, in his arms, he was stupid, not malevolent, i wanted to die.

i cant carry my classes through mentions of anything sexual. i cant. ill tell my professors that. i cant miss another year but i cant find help. i loathe him. if he died i would kill myself and he didnt do anything wrong. only in that aspect of my life. i want to get our old love back, my hair is now down to my jaw. 

then i try to leave and i think of him with someone else and im still dirty and haggard. i think of him explaining our breakup to some other girl and her telling her i was abusive and immature. i get back with him and apologize. ill never love again. be with anyone, more like. 

ive been thinking i may not be asexual but traumatized after all and that my mother always mentioned i was always very sexual and maybe it is true but i wanted to rip those things out of me. its a power i always felt would bend me backwards towards evil and instead of helping my earth a guide so it could have a chance at growing up he ran over it with his car. ill never have it again. God makes fun of me. he gives me this dirt so i am never sinless then breaks apart any kind of satisfaction or happiness or anything i can get from it. i was drunk, first time ever no less. and i have drank so much since then. never blackout, i am forgetful. i came home and drank hoping id forget by tomorrow, it didnt work, i wanted to die, i cried all week and he did it again. i cried in front of him. i have pictures, i looked like i had died five minutes ago.

i wanted a happy relationship and a happy marriage. ill never have sex, i want to remain chaste all my life. i dont want to be defiled more than i was and am. freud said everyone was a hypocrite when it came to sex. marilyn manson said youll never cover up what you did in a dress. i wanted true love for the first time in my life. i still felt some way that i was, in some way, i was still would resign. that night i knew it was over, years will go by and im stuck in that room God decided to forsake me in trying to not make eye contact, picking up trinkets, smashing them against a wall, placing them back in. i wanted to die a million times over, i did, not in any way i liked at all. ive never been done. why could this one thing not be normal. just this one thing. ill never feel fine again, i will always be missing something.

i hate him but i need him. i need him but i dont want to. he is sweet and patient but after what he did he should be. he deserves hell and so do i. he mutilated me, he should feed me spoonful by spoonful. fulfill my dreams and desires to distract me from the bleeding. crawl on his knees until theyre gone to my whim. lacking of honor, graceless bastard. i wish my dad would shoot him. i wish he shot me. i wish we all died. he deserves better than me, but by God i did not deserve that. i do not deserve this. we deserve each other now but im stronger yet my cross is shackled to the ground. 

im an unreliable narrator, or a liar, or doomed. two of those three. i cant know, my mind is off and im living to wait, waiting to die, bracing for the next of my loves to be plucked from me.

we all watched eraserhead and i am so embarrassed by every single one of my stupid actions and my stupid face and my stupid clothes. ill never be ok again.

i fancy myself a seductress when im down but im more of a waste of a woman who will do anything for cash or a hit, stripped from all humanity, landed outside with my skirt up and half tweaking outside a gas station shop.