just a young { hart } confusing my mind // reese & sam
Oct 5, 2016 5:11:00 GMT -5
Post by jj jenkins d7. ✨ zozo. on Oct 5, 2016 5:11:00 GMT -5
S A M I R A H A R T |
Acid remnants on my tongue, regrets burnt from my taste buds. Regret does not taste and I do not taste regret, a feeling long singed from my mouth, now swallowed whole and filling up the empty spaces between my bones.
I feel it all around me. It clatters in my skull in memory and names and a life not worth living all over again in my head. Static in my chest invades my airways and sometimes I forget how to breathe. Scars against my arms, traced with my fingertips, echoes in my ears of conversation lost and conversation gained and conversation I will never have. I think my stomach shrunk, because if I fill it with anything but liquid or nerves it forces it all back up and I spend my nights shrouded in white, all too familiar, cool china at my forehead. Sometimes it will not stop, even after there is nothing else left for my body to give. Cold feet and numb toes and I crawl into bed a mess, nothing more or less than the person I was before I came to this in-between of life and death.
I wake up drained, an empty shell with nothing more to give as this place takes and takes and takes and yet I keep going, because I have nothing left to lose and everything to gain. The girl on the bathroom floor at 3am would be proud. At least that's what I like to think to myself as I stitch myself up and slice myself open: sewing, skewering, sewing, skewering. Still a mess. Still alive.
They'll get you anything here. Empty bottles say goodnight and disappear with the day, waking to find their existence obliterated. Part of me wants to be whisked away with them. Part of me wants to stay here forever. Part of me wants to cry and scream and rip my heart out and pay penance for every sin I have ever committed but I do not listen to her, because she is weak and I am strong and the strong don't have regrets.
I sit across from him in the moonlight and we watch the world continue below us without a care in the world.
"Do you have any regrets, Reese?"
I fancy a taste.
T R A I N I N G C E N T E R |