What do you see when you look at me?
A woman in her 20s, loud laughter, and a smile that feels of home. Blonde hair tangled together around her face. Eyes that sparkle when the serotonin decides to flow. A woman who is soft, almost too soft. A woman with scars so deep they haunt tortured souls.
Do you see the little girl behind the sparkle? A girl that no matter how hard she fought, couldn’t escape the demons. A girl so damned Lucifer won’t even touch her.
She doesn’t know how to fight her demons. Indestructible, no kryptonite in sight. How does she fight something she can’t feel? How loud does she have to SCREAM into the abyss asking to feel something… only to look down at her wish fulfilled though a trail of blood, but still feels nothing.
How does one stay still being strangled. How does one stay still while the weight of another’s lust caresses over, even after a meek scream of ‘no’ dissolves though the air. How does no mean yes and yes means yes, except when it comes to your body. Then no is honorable. No holds its weight.
Held just like the weight I carry every day since you decided to baptize me with your lust. Except, it wasn’t lust I was baptized in, it was greed. Your greed hides in a beautiful mirage in the dark. Only showing it’s face when a freeze courses though my vertebrae as another soul touches my neck. Your greed holds me though sleepless nights while the mortician tiredly buries what used to be into the abyss. The abyss holding the little girl, the woman. The abyss shaped as the flag residing on your chest, with its fingers intertwined around my breath. Residing in the washed blood stain on the quilt. Residing in the echo of my naked body, cold from your touch. A body too cold to fight this battle.
Maybe she deserved it, there wasn’t much of a fight after all. She left the girl’s fallen soul behind in rage to fight. Only to realize she is the girl looking into the abyss. Realzing she is fighting the same battle that had been laid to rest, but was once again ignited when you decided to baptize.
Savior, I didn’t want to be baptized in your lust. I wanted my ‘no’ to be as heavy as your weight I lug around. The weight you ignored while looking at the sparkle. The weight that is now intertwined with my breath, like the hair around my face.
I hope you remember my face.
If I did, I would sell my soul to Lucifer for free.
prguitarman
kianamaiart
titsay
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
izzy806
andulkaphoto
gummygunk
dailybridgerton
