An old song stuck on replay matches the tone deaf ears of the obvious. I didn’t know how much pull you had over me. I didn’t know the aches that caused my gripping claws to reach out to everyone, anyone, was caused by the moment you walked away.

You probably didn’t know the wavering in my voice was the sound of my life getting lost. I cried once and when you didn’t notice, I put it all away. Buried my face in my pillow and let the demons shelter me. They followed me everywhere, pushing me.

I grasped onto any warm body that would look my way. I gave each and every one a piece. Some took a little, most took all they could stand until they realized I wasn’t looking to give, only to receive. Each time it was too late, another memory my demons held onto to haunt me into never letting go. I’ve held each and every one of you with the sweet words, the soft whispers, the pleasures given and received. I remember the one who thought I was asleep. His voiced whispered and I ignored it. I didn’t want the throws of another night of passion, even though when he grabbed me by the hips it was like a dream. No, I wanted the sweet whispers to kiss my face.

I am finding what was scattered, as discarded remnants I left behind. They realized they were nothing more than a reflection of what could be, never a solid thought to hold onto. They float in the breeze, swaying back and forth and thrashing in the storms. They are out there. My voice changes. The pain guides my thoughts, I fight my words, but not my actions. The demons have lost that war, even if they win the one inside my head.

I thank you that you finally returned, I think. I don’t know if you will stay. Sometimes I think the perfume you wear is a glimpse of what you could be. Soft, gentle, kind, but that the demons had you too. I don’t think the comfort you hand out now is the same as the one I should have been raised on, but I will take it just the same. I know it is more than anyone else has offered.

I fear that once I am whole again, I will lose the strength that forms in these thoughts. The pain that once swam in the pit of my soul now dances on the edge of disappearance. I should be celebrating. But it had become such a friend. I am afraid that even if you leave, I will have learned that when my heart rips, its only for a time. I can sit in the blood and heal from it all.

 

 

 

 

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