#daughters mind

[lostprinc3]

if the world would end today, i’d make my tea extra hot, not caring if i’d burn my tongue. i‘d go outside and lay in the grass, reading the book that has been standing at the end of my bookshelf for far too long collecting dust. I’d write a letter to put in a little box and bury it, so no one could find it. lastly i‘d sit in the dirt covered ground and cover myself in leafs and fall asleep.

[lostprinc3]

They devoured one another in the silence, not with their mouths but with their hands and hearts. They were simultaneously filled and hollowed by unadulterated, unquenchable love. He wanted her whole, her essence condensed into something he could hold, retain, and eat, but she needed him in pieces, every imperfection and sharp edge. Not out of cruelty, but out of a need so basic that it was difficult to distinguish between devastation and devotion, they tore at each other. Deeply loving this meant exposing oneself and feasting on the essence of what it meant to be alive with one another. Ultimately, they were less than one person, and less than nothing.

[lostprinc3]

An Angel came to me last night. It lingered infront of my bed and glowed like a thousand suns. As it opened its mouth, I almost passed out. The deafening cry it gave me, sounded almost like a sweet serenade. The angel gifted me a pomegranate. I broke it open and it’s red juice dripped down my fingers, staining my white linen. I handed the angel a half and watched as it drank the sweet nectar and let it dribble down its chin. It looked nearly unholy. Staring at the creature, tears ran down my face and burned themselves into my skin. Only later I realized.. only later I saw the mirror infront of me.

[lostprinc3]

My mother is a vicious beast. She is shards of broken glass and she is the ash from her cigarettes. She has sharpened claws and resentful eyes. She spills out cruelties and hands them to me on a silver plate. She breathes out merciless words and rips at my throat. I’ll forever be her failed creation. I’ll forever be the sight she hates most. And yet, I seek out her comfort and bathe in her warmth, because she’ll always be my mother.

[lostprinc3]

And I’m waiting for someone to hold me. I am waiting and watching everyone walk around me, like I‘m something broken. Someone, not worthy of love. Never seen nor heard. I can hear them laugh. Telling each other jokes. Jokes, which I not know of. My Heart is beating fast. My hands are shaking. Why can’t they see? See that I am not abnormal.

[lostprinc3]

I’d tear holes in my skin, if you wanted to love me intimately

[lostprinc3]

I met god at a bus stop. She was dragging on her cigarette and sitting on a cold bench. The bench still covered in writings from previous ones. Her mascara was running down her face, her runny nose almost as red as the tip of her cigarette, and her chipped nails scratched open her skin. As she looked at me, I swear I could see the whole world in her eyes, just as it is. Broken and damned. Under her finger nails laid the dirt and in her eyes pooled her tears, forming oceans. I could feel her staring at me and judging me. It was that night I realized, that god is every teenage girl.

[lostprinc3]

I believe I am no good.

I believe I am no good, because the way I talk makes others hearts clench. Dirt wraps my words and stains their thoughts leaving bugs and larvae behind. My ideas spoil their minds and abandon them on a cliff for the wolves to feed on. Blood stains my fingers and has me wondering, whose it is. Is it mine? Has it ever been mine?

God gave up, trying to clean me. Trying to save me. I just bit their fingers and scratched their skin open.

I believe I am no good, because I weep for forgiveness and do it all again. And when they hate me I cry for help and for someone to stay with me.