God, I am ready for the Rapture.

Reads: 198  | Likes: 2  | Shelves: 2  | Comments: 2

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 22, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 22, 2018



I don't know what to do when I feel what I feel right now.

So many feelings.

So much hurt.

So much angst.

So much built up unwanted, nothing- to -do with love.

It's like climbing the tallest cliff to experience the most beautiful view but then getting to the top to find out you were climbing the wrong damn mountain.


Looking down into the thick eerie fog wondering while wandering, trying to find the view we had so deeply longed for.  One day.

It isn't there. It isn't here. It isn't over there. It's nowhere to be found because we're looking in all the same places.

I want to run I want to scream I want to push myself off the cliff I want to pull you off with me I want to hit the jagged rocks and feel our bones break together.


I want to love. I want to be loved. You love me. You say you love me. You always have loved me. You have always said you loved me. You were innocent. You were kind. We were innocent we were kind. My saving grace. Or what I thought was to be. You cushioned every fall and held me together with the glue that seeped from your arms as they held me and as your soft lips kissed my forehead. "It will be okay". And you put gauze on my gaping wounds and you wrapped my bleeding hands, literally and emotionally. As I gripped you more tightly, clinging to your every word and treasuring every second. In awe of an angel. I should of never put you on a pedestal and should've never had inhuman expectations of you. You just seemed so beyond perfect- how could I see anything else.

You conformed to whatever I needed at the time. From a child-like friend to an experimental young adult to an experienced lover. As I was changing from person to person you had the ability to conform to whoever we were at the time. You still do. Shapeshifter.

The greatest magic trick of them all. Could it be that you dissociate too?

Nothing else could make someone feel more whole than to be understood so precisely.

Why is nothing ever black and white? Why is everything always so messy? When did I learn to mix colors and fall in love with the way they bleed into each other?


Our lines bled

Our lies bled

Our eyes bled

I wish they bled red

All I see is red

Rage is red

Love is red

Why do they happen to come out in the same color

Why do they feel like the same emotion

Why does everything bleed into each other

Who took down my bloody gates

Who pushed over my bloody fences

Who opened the trap door and never shut it behind them

Who did this

Why did they do this

Woe is me

I am the master of my own destruction

I am the epitome of my own catastrophe.

I did this to myself

I let them in one at a time until the floodgates were overcome. One could not close the gates now even if she tried.


I was 4 the first time. Here I am 16 years later, still unable to identify what needs to happen in order to feel safe.


I thought I was safe

I thought this was the safest it could be. In fact, the reason I am still in the situation I am is that I feel safe. Comfortable. Loved. Saved. Treasured. Valued.  Imagine this, getting to the top of that mountain, jumping off the disappointing cliff, and being caught by the suspended safety net below. What was at first a beautiful miracle, turns into a reoccurring nightmare once you realize there is still no way to get down and now you're just counting down the time until the ropes start to wither and the net begins to give.


At this point, were hanging on by a few strings but I still don't see the alternative.

Does it ever get easier?

Does my jaw ever get to unclench and do my shoulders ever get to sit down?

I am always holding on for dear life.

Everything good thing that comes my way is a blessing and I hold on too tightly.

Too tightly.


I have often thought that I am like Lenny. I tend to treasure things too intensely. & need people too deeply. & love people too passionately. & hold on to the things I care most for too tightly, in fear of...

I'm not completely sure.

Possibly being abandoned. But as a result, I end up hurting everything I touch.


Abandoned by my biological mother, chosen by my adoptive parents.


Chosen and then what felt like forgotten. Not forgotten, just busy.

Busy and angry. Angry because they were busy?

I was not the ordinary child even then. I was more often the child with too many issues.



And issues

So many fucking issues

Physical and mental and spiritual.

Sexual and psychological.

Biological and adoptive.



You understood them all

At least I always gave you credit for understanding it all. I always thought you understood it all.

Why do I do that

Why do I give one human so much power over my entire life

Why do I give God-like qualities to human beings

Woe is me

I am the fallen

I am not the creator of my own destiny.


I am not in control by giving someone else complete control

I am not in control by giving someone else complete control

I am not in control by giving someone else complete control

I am not in control by giving someone else complete control

I am not in control by giving someone else complete control


I've always known I was toxic.

I was bitten by the bug and it has sucked my soul dry.

It has poisoned the ground I'm buried in.

The soil is dry and my soul is dry and there is nothing near to drink.

I am parched. I have been without water for many days and I need something to drink. I am at the bottom of this mountain among many rocks and soil. And it begins to rain


Thank you

Thank you rain

I would've begun to believe that my tears would be the only thing to quench my thirst.


I am always among many.

Why do I ever feel alone?

Alone, what is alone?

I don't know the word by definition, but I know it by the tone. The feeling that sinks deep into the pit of your stomach while lying in bed at night. The deep ache in your chest when desperately wishing for your other.


Significant other




I'd rather be alone than desperate because I don't seek for just anyone to fill the void I seek for you


Who are you

Who do I seek for so desperately



Why do I seek and still not find?

I could find, and I have found before.

But now, why now? Why do I feel so empty and bare? Why do I feel so without and unaware? Why do I feel like what once was lost May never be found?


The cradle before it breaks

The eyes before they see

The first time they fall

The first time they bleed

The tear in the little blue dress

And then wondering how it got there

The flowers in the field, the stickers are their shields

Running through the halls, laughing without cause

Hiding under the stairs, pretending you're not there.

Bubbles baths turned tainted red and sour.

Kissing at the mall, late night booty calls

Online stranger chat, flash me or I'll gag

Sex at the dances, parties without parents

Blowjobs and facials and Xanax at every social


I won't allow it anymore

I can't

Abuse: 1. to use wrongly or improperly; misuse: to abuse one's authority.

Are we abusing each other?

We love each other.

How do I know the difference?

They feel like the same thing. While simultaneously nothing alike.

I am befuddled by my ability to confound myself and everyone around me without even realizing it. I'm pleasing myself and giving in to desire and while it's desire it's also grief and heartache and lost innocence and stolen joy and God am I ready for the rapture

© Copyright 2019 AjaCo.. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:


More True Confessions Poems