Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?
The ache in your abdomen that feels like snakes hissing their war? Being cannibals upon each other and eating each others sorrow and strength, thinking that they can become better. Become better.
Can you feel it?
The way your heart is being hammered by a stick that was found by a 6 year old boy? He was playing in the park that you played with him everyday as you grew up. He broke his soul as he gave up on life. Slit his wrists and drowned in his own blood in the bathtub you two played in as kids. There are pictures. No more smiles.
Can you feel it?
The way your hand slowly started to fall down after the dark abyss has killed all of your hopes?
Can you feel it?
The way the sky seems to droop in it's sad bliss because you gave up as well? Because you never truly cared enough to stay. You didn't have the strength that I had. You never could hurt me the way I hurt you.
Can you feel it?
The way the world works just to destroy all innocence because everyone *should* be corrupted. Because there isn't any point in being pure anymore because everyone spoils their innocence by doing something too adult way too young.
Can you feel it?
The way they've stolen your innocence by telling you the truth about reality? You never wanted to know, you kept turning your head trying to look away, but they grabbed your face and breathed pain into face, you couldn't ignore it then.
Can you feel it?
The way I just want to die in your arms after you've killed me with so many words? Shh, just don't say anything. I'm dying any way, if you loved me once, for old times sake hold me. Just hold me.
Can you feel it?
The devasting crumbling hope that fell when you were playing with your barbies that you could never look like that or be that because you were of a different ethnic backround, a different nationality. You could never be blonde or have blue eyes or be tall. You could never be an all american beauty.
Can you feel it?
The way the media will always make little girls feel inferior because they have to live up to models like Jennifer Lopez and Brittney Spears, knowing they can't?
Can you feel it?
The disapointment on your mothers face when you were young and you brought home your report card and all you had were C's. Knowing that you tried your best, your hardest, but that you will always remain average and bring no honor to your family name.
Can you feel it?
The insecurities slowly starting to consume all of your actions and it gets to the point where you can't step outside of your front door because you hate and abhor all people.
Can you feel it?
The shame that this is what your life is and knowing that it will never get better because you are the producer and consumer of your own self-pity.
Can you feel it?
The way some people play nonchalance and all you want to do is die and they still look at you and the nonchalance disappears and is replaced with a laugh of happiness because you are in pain. They never really liked you in the first place.
Can you feel it?
The anger that is boiling in my blood right now because I hate you, because you are everything I wanted to kill in this world.
Can you feel it?
The way my mind clouds because you don't care if I'm in my bedroom cutting my wrists. Letting the blood drip down my arm to keep the tears from running down my face. Release.
Can you feel it?
My heart beats slowly coming to a stop because I can't find a reason to live. To breathe. To breathe.
Can you feel it?
The way my hands are quivering because the world hit me a thousand times with a leather whip and I was just a child not knowing what it was like to love, and the scars are still visible? Across my back, my wrists, my eyes, and my heart.
Can you feel it?
The way I want to scream and die and no one wants to save me from my misery?
Can you feel it?
The way my voice cracked the very first time I said 'I love you'...and meant it.
Can you feel it?
The way my eyes lost its vibrance the moment you left me, claiming it was a mistake, when I knew, and you knew, deep down inside to the very bottoms of your toes, that you were wrong but more scared that I was someone that could have saved you, the way I let you save me.
Can you feel it?
The way I turned my head when you tried to kiss me, begging me take you back, begging me to love you again, touching every part of me with such passion I was heated for 12 days straight.
Can you feel it?
You died the the day you purposed to me, on bended knee, a bullet went through your freedom, and you died because you couldn't live without me and you couldn't live without having what you had when you were single.
Can you feel it?
The way my hands shook when I closed your casket and pulled the black veil over my eyes and never onced lifted it in the 6 months I stayed in my room wanting to die because I wasn't with you.
Can you feel it?
The ache of family members being sexist and saying it was for your own good because girls are likely taken advantage of? Because we do not have the strength that men do?
Can you feel it?
The way that your best-friend since kindergarden, the one you would always tell your secrets to, the one who would hold your hand as you walked through the upperclassmens classrooms, the one who you would change your sandwhiches with, the one who cried on your shoulder when her parents divorced, the one who you grew up with, the one who you thought you loved and loved you, would look at you with eyes of not-knowing, who would look at you as if you were just someone walking down the street, as if all the memories that you two gathered were flown out the window like a broken picture frame.
Can you feel it?
The hunger that lies in my stomach because no one ever understood or cared enough to love me, to feed me, to hold me, to know me...
Can you feel it?
The ache that I'm experiencing right now, just writing this? Pouring out my soul in a thousand different letters which are forming words of nostalgic breakage? The kind that never heals.