emotional scars

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
memories i would rather forget

Submitted: July 31, 2011

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Submitted: July 31, 2011

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it's not your fault.
thinking about it makes it real.
every detail.
he smelled like old spice, and alcohol.
and he touched my hair.
he gave me a drink, i pretended to drink it.
his hand weighed heavily on my shoulder.
it was hot, but still the shivers came.
the walls closed in more tightly with each passing moment,
with each passing moment.
a song, the lyrics unimportant, played too loud.
he pushed me upstairs; an inaudible scream escaped my lips.
he punched me.
his fist, coming in contact with my mouth,
carried all the rage of a frustrated mother,
but none of the love that lies beneath the surface.
the music played too loud.
the room was dark, but the walls were orange.
how strange, it crossed my mind.
how strange, in such a setting; orange walls.
at such a time, they didn't fit in.
i remember the way the light fell
through the blinds, softly, from the streetlight.
hitting the carpet silently.
and his words slurred, when he told me
he missed me, he missed me.
he pushed me against the wall,
the force of a tidal wave.
my head hit hard enough that dizziness overtook me.
he clicked the lock. we were locked in.
locked in together. locked in with our thoughts.
with my fear. with his desire.
my phone lay idle on the carpet, where it had fallen
from my pocket, from a place of safety.
the vibration, ever so quiet, gave it away.
and all hope was lost.
a stray kick from the agressor sent it away,
sent it under the bed, sent it away,
too far away to be of any help.
nobody was of any help.
his hands tightened around my neck,
threats were uttered. if a noise
were to escape me, so would air.
so would breathing. so would life.
he would make sure of that.
the tears fell, so silently. so discreetly.
yet so obviously. so openly.
and were ignored, so openly.
he pushed my body to the floor.
my body and my mind became seperate at this point.
became independent of one another.
danced to seperate drums.
the zipper down, the hush of defeat.
of giving up.
he instructed me, close your eyes
close your eyes he said, and it won't hurt.
it won't hurt because your mind will be elsewhere
my mind is elsewhere
my mind is nowhere.
eyes closed, but i still felt it.
he took everything. he stole
something special. something that was
mine and only mine to give.
blocking it out for two more songs
played too loud
was easier than could be predicted
with disjointed parts. disjointed soul,
disjointed mind, disjointed body.
and then, it was over.
altogether as quickly as it began.
his lips, on mine. one kiss,
a farewell that was long awaited.
a farewell that would not last,
when mind and body and soul
all my seperate parts,
ceased to be seperate.
a farewell that would mean nothing,
for he was now one of those
disjointed parts.
now somewhat of an appendage
impossible to dislocate.
impossible to remove.
impossible to forget.
i can't forget.
i won't.
never.


© Copyright 2018 Carley Amanda. All rights reserved.

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