Wounds Inflicted with a Special Blade

Pain inflicted by a person you’ve let further in than anyone before has a particular sting. A sting that resonates through you. A sting that incapacitates you – tunnel vision, a dry mouth, a tautness in your muscles. The physiological reactions associated with the fight or flight response in primitive human instinct.

Being judged and scolded like a child by someone no better or wiser than you causes a rise of indignant anger that almost always leads to a taste of bitterness or resentment, be it a faint tinny ring in the back of your mind to a blaring siren of defiance. In any case, the anger grows stronger still when, upon following suit in a significantly more tactful manner, you are informed in no uncertain terms that you have no place to do such.

All this correction and reproach hurt more than any insult, simply because the reason you let the person in in the first place is the fact that they assured you that they loved even the things they didn’t like about you.

Aisle Alter Hymn.

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The Battle of Self

The battle returns. The battle of superficial fulfillment, the fight for a false ideal. An ideal not my own. An ideal I resent, but cannot evade, for the ideal adores me. This ideal makes the mirror my enemy and my mind a tangled mess of sense and sensationalism.

Whose thoughts taint mine so? Who twisted my observations into criticism? Who turned my acknowledgement into resentment? I took the steps forward but I’m impaired – the villain is the hand that spun me to face this path with tunnel vision.

The repetitive scheming, the wilting strength in the face of influence – this is the battle, but which side wins is in the hands of one. The outcome lies in a choice: get healthy or get skinny?

Step into my chaos

I’m a mess. I’ve realized that. Have you? Have you seen the way I grow quiet, shrink into myself, then unfold and and stare ahead defiantly in the same hour? Have you seen the way I look at myself with disdain when no-one’s looking, but walk proud out in the world?

I’m everything I abhor and I’m everything I adore, all tangled in this sharp little mind of mine. I don’t know if I ever want it to stop – the love warms me and the hate drives me. I feel too much, I think even more, but I say too little. Does that bother you? Do you want to see the colours of my thoughts drip off my tongue?

Come into my space, let me show you the chaos that is me. Help me love it, teach me to glitter like your eyes in the wake of my crazy song. I promise you’ll never feel a trip like this.