M

You can try again.

[kcabsiamme]

I am an addict. This isn't a metaphor. My mother held a lineage of poor discipline, handed it off to me and begged me to continue it. Despite my brutal rejection of the genes within me, I found my way into the preying hands of selfish endeavours and let them devour me whole. I found every person who reminded me of the mother I couldn't save and let them run circles around me like she did before. I took their cigs, I took their pot, I took their liquor, I took there pills, I took their cough syrup, I took their angel dust, I took their coke, I took it all for years. At first I was looking for answers, then I was looking to drown out my questions. I've since stopped trying to explain her behaviours, and simultaneously my own. I've learned, however, how to recognize the patterns. I didn't find god, or reevaluate my faith or purpose. Instead, a number of almost-dying-but-not-quiet-and-maybe-I'm-just-not-supposed-to-die-just-yet's made me stop trying. Can't quite kick the nicotine, and sure I miss the way my face is so, so, beautiful in the bathroom mirror as I gnash my teeth together, but it wasn't worth it. That's the only difference I found. She decided we weren't worth it. I love my siblings more than a mother loves her kids. and it wasn't worth it.

E.L.T / 7-25-2026

[kcabsiamme]

Sick

When you're sick and in your 20's, there is no one to stroke your hair back- feeling for fever. When you step out from your pile of tissues and make your way to the kitchen- every cup has your name on it. It's desolate and calm- your hacking doesn't bother anyone. When you're sick in your 20's, you'll go to sleep at 5 p.m. so it feels like you got to sleep in when you wake up at 7 a.m. You'll go to work, you'll do your best. Someone will say "Thanks." That's worth coming in for. When you're sick in your 20's, you'll buy yourself cold medicine and run a bath. Someone did that for you once- showed you how to make yourself better again. So, you do just that.

E.L.T / 6-13-2024

[kcabsiamme]

Much Worse

Maybe in another life I felt anger the right way. A life where I bit into him with razors & chewed while his horror filled the room. If they cross the line, why can't I? Maybe I was justified in screaming. Maybe that wasn't 'too far'. I could have hurtled the bottle, could have jammed my fresh set into his corneas. I could have been so much worse.

On one hand, there could have been his blood. on the other, there could have been mine. Maybe in another life I let it happen. A life where I opened the banging door & felt the threats true weight. If they wanted to, so did I. Maybe I should have taken that kind of love. I could have been different, could have dissolved quietly. I could have been so much worse.

E.L.T / 6-3-2025

[kcabsiamme]

Snippet 11-30-24

Sick of reading you like a room, Every opportunity wasted, Pick up your voice & throw it. Tell the neighborhood how everything feels. Count it as a win when you lose less than expected, justify your hurt with 'It could have been worse'. Only knowing how true a sentiment when life gets better, but still bruised by its battery. & then I knew it was always in me- giving.

E.L.T.

[kcabsiamme]

Frequent Flyer It's the city lights that draw you in. Before you can get to the nasty club with all the whims and victims of intoxication you've got to ride the T. Economically concious, cheap, and ultimately you will get where you need to go. Everyone takes the train, you are not the exception. Slide your uncovered thighs onto the cold plastic seat and wait. You'll see others on their phones, earbuds in, blocking out conversations between passengers. "My Raki lady did the most phenomenal work on me last Wednesday..." "Did you see their post about..." "since when is Mr. Bigley a commie?" The windows will darken, the train sways in a way that will cause you to avert your gaze to your shoes. Bells chime twice to signal the opening, then closing, of the doors. "Next Stop Park Street" A young man is muttering, "I can't do it." "I can't spend another night outside." "Tonight's not as cold as last night. last night was freezing." "I'm so tired, please." Not much changes. The prior conversations continue. Everyone's holding their distractions of choice with more intent now. A focus only sen by BARR examies. He continues, quickening to get what he has to say out before we all leave. "$8.47 for a water and a cheese stick. That leaves me with $4.26" He's not speaking to anyone in particular. He's in the aisle, pacing in discrete squares. Then he sits, "I haven't changed my clothes in two weeks." "Please someone help me. It's going to be cold soon. I'm so tired, please." His back is to you, head between his knees and fingers search his hair for answers. The young man begs with a lump in his throat, one you know well, it's followed by tears. You choose to witness him. It is the absolute least you can do. You want to offer him your last three dollars in hopes it gets him by. In hopes he recovers and is loved like your brother. Though a passenger hushes at you, "He's a frequent flyer on this train. If you were feeling bad for him, next stop is the shelter- They take Anyone." Just like that he is discarded. You cannot show empathy for a stranger because it's 'their fault', because they've 'asked for help already' or maybe because 'someone else will help'. Go on, get off the train. Enjoy your night knowing that for however long you're comfortable, the young man will keep coming back to the station, boarding, crying, begging, being ignored until he is gone. Not much changes. He will be replaced by someone else's loved one and you will be replaced by anyone. E. L. T. / 10-24-2024

[kcabsiamme]

No Will we lose everytime? A silkworm traveling from bark to leaf, then swinging past a flailing child only to be Twacked so hard it falls to it's end. We wonder then why we ever started. In the mornings, when fresh dew coats the world, it's only natural to put your shoes on first before going out to grab the mail. For to be bare is to be judged. When our future comes will we allow our past self to see it too? Every bit of dust collecting on the moulding, on the sill, in the corner behind the cabinets, on the top of picture frames, inside that unused vase are all good places to write you're sorry. Will it ever be the right time? Bus stops like the one cornering seventh and eighth hold so much waiting. For the bus, and to go home. Waiting to see your mom. Waiting to be alone more so than you are here. Waiting to wait. Waiting for tomorrow and so on. Won't we get to know? When noticing another person it is best to say 'hello', best to tell them their clothes fit just right and they are socially accepted. Every 'Thank you', 'Congradulations', 'I am so proud of you' is free. It is wise to be kind. Could we have done more? Solo, an individual on their way to take it all on. When the time comes there is no comfort in the face of reality. She hates you and she will tell you, 'no'. E.L.T / 8-12-2024

[kcabsiamme]

I Just Want to Sleep Alone (Comfortably) I feel it creeping. A slimey thick independent sludge, it's indistinguishable and void-like. I watch dead girls eternally preserved online & wonder if they were ever really there to begin with. I feel it clawing. A dull aching, bordering finality, sinking in and lacerating. The grip my distractions have on me is robotic. Habitual. When broken- I feel it eating. Gnawing away at my sweet deeds, all my sugar coated pleasantries. When I'm left alone, it makes hell feel like a living room fireplace. The heat of abhorrence makes my skin feel like latex-worthy of stripping the discomfort off. Painstakingly slow, careful, pulls. All the hairs and imperfections plucked and punctured with it. Finally, when it exhausts me to the point ads and wonders can't hold my thoughts over this loomingness, I'll cave. I'll try to find resolve in grief, not one to be ungrateful. I get to experience the scope of feelings life brings, after all. It's unfortunate to be given a gift I have no idea what to do with. It's in me. It's lonely. E.L.T / 9-10-2023

[kcabsiamme]

Unnamed (2019) Mini Your soul reeks of havoc. Your aura has tinged lines of cruelty within it. & I wonder if you notice, or if you think the terrible things you do are invisible. I'm not saying you're all bad, though. Time can mend any broken thing, but if for a second you believe "being a good person" is only in the eyes staring back at you while you pretend interest is, purely, anything, but for yourself, may you only add to the stench of narcissism that envelopes the good parts of you. E.L.T / 1-15-2019

[inkskinned]

but i am sick of climbing / i am sick of crawling on hand and knees and scraping myself along the ground / i am sick of self-help skills and persistence and patience / i am sick of pushing myself and burning out and thrashing about hopelessly / i am sick of being a goldfish in a hot pan / i am sick of reinventing myself every season / i am sick of this feeling / i would claw this out of me if you gave me a sharp enough object / i am sick of feeling unsafe around sharp objects / i am sick of never finding an object sharp enough

i wish you knew the answer and could tell me and pour it down my throat until i gagged on it / i made my therapist cry when i said i had a lacking in me / i told her that a train could drive through the spaces i put into myself / the lacking is what does it, not the wanting, the lack, the dullness / barely-breathing with my teeth clacking in the cold water / it's the same fucking bridge it's the same dream and the same stupid kid / i wish sometimes i had drowned in that pool / i wish i had been different, not even that it was easier but just that i had enough strength to endure it / i wish it went away / i wish i had one good fucking reason

[caruccio]

[thoughtkick]

“Don’t allow your wounds to turn you into a person you are not.”

— Paulo Coelho

[inkskinned]

will you be enough for her, though. little slip child. you hated every time you had to scream to be heard, so you stopped screaming. it feels so fucking demeaning, 16 and shivering, saying please! father! look at me! and having him say in a minute sweetie.

online they're back to making fun of self-harm scars. isn't that funny. we have dropped the silver pretense of empathy and are walking around without any shred of humanity.

are you still shouting? how can anybody love you, then, siren. error signal. your voice so quiet and desperate. nobody is going to help you, stop begging. how can anybody actually look down at you without squashing you flat. oh, darling. you once bit into the back of your hand to stop from crying out, and discovered that it felt too dramatic for repeating.

people like you aren't supposed to cry, because you are too much. you have never meant to, but you take the air out of a room just by walking in. other people can take up room like a sunbeam. you blurt out all your wickedness in oilslicks, everyone can feel it. you slosh yourself over their hands and demand their flinch. you are a bone stuck in the throat.

be more beautiful, more perfect. if you can earn it, they won't abhor you. they might even tolerate you, if you turn the right way and never stand up straight.

but love? her life is a silver fish, a cat paw. your life is a long, thin, impossible desire - angry like a blade. your life is a crack in the floortile. you cannot bring your rotted fruit heart into the church of her hands. you will ruin her. you will overtake everything good for her.

or worse - you will have to beg her look at me. and that moment of desperation will ruin you forever. completely.

deleted scene from body's a bad monster, 9.24.2024

[melisica]

[kcabsiamme]

[kcabsiamme]

M's starter pack part: FUcK

[kcabsiamme]

I choose to love without abandon,

Because if you choose to leave

My heart will hurt, but surely heal

And no regrets will come of it as I was pure and real.

Can you say the same?

[kcabsiamme]

We don't say "I love you" anymore

You try to be kind and I try not to care.

It's a stand off as I face you and fight my internal monologue.

You weren't lying when you said you felt nothing

You were lying when you tried to take those words back and I'm not sure which one hurt more, but I've decided to use that pain to fuel my new intentions.

I will not tell you "I love you" anymore.