Mirrors Part II
Should I shatter the glass before me?
I just want to bash my face into this mirror.
I stare trying to figure out what I did wrong. What did I do to deserve this? I place my hand on the glass and weep. The white hot tears flowing as I finally face the agony. Realization of this agony is crucial. At least that's what any wise person would say... but they do not know the secrets held within that agony.
I look down at my bare flesh of my arm. The thought of grabbing the nearest sharp object tortures me, but I shake it off. There is no use in causing unneeded pain to those around me. Even if most them are self absorbed. "Their ignorance will be paid for in full." That's the lie I tell myself as I try like hell to pry away from the mirror. I wipe a few more tears away as I try to convince myself not to let my thoughts wander. "Don't let your mind get the better of you. All it does is play nasty tricks on you." I push off from the counter and grab my coffee mug. I have no idea what beckons me to think of my home in Durand. I remember the rusty colored restaurant style booth in grandfather's kitchen. The white coffee mug with badly painted strawberries. I go to drink from the mug thinking that it was nothing more than juice or pop. My four year old self suddenly realizing what coffee was. Grandfather just laughed as he realized I hated the taste, and poured me a cup anyway. I drank it after putting a few spoonfuls of sugar in it.
I remember their home in Florida when my brother and I got into our first fist fight. My brother had stolen one of my toys and broke it. So I screamed at him. I don't remember who hit who first. I do remember kicking him off of me. He landed on a footstool. His eyes staring up at me as he screamed in bloody murder from hitting a metal edge. It had cut him good.
I remember another fight with my brother in my grandparents second home in Florida. My brother had sat on the computer for five days straight barely getting up to use the bathroom or anything else. He hadn't showered. He was in the middle of Diablo. I unplugged the computer and told him to shower. He got pissed off and took a swing at me. So I kicked him in the rib cage. He came after me and held me against the wall, choking me. I remember him yelling, "I'll fucking kill you for that bitch!" I stared him in the face, "Go ahead." At that moment he just let me go and punched a wall. Then he stormed off into the shower. I remember rubbing my neck and wondering why the hell he didn't finish me off then.
I don't know why these memories keep popping up in my head. Maybe its the fact my brother is gone from the house and I'm the only one left. Even though most of the time he was a pain in my ass... he was still my brother. I miss having him around. I wish there was some way I could convince him to come back. I don't want to be alone...
It kills me that my mother decided to choose her new boyfriend over her own kids. She met this guy at a bar a month after she's been separated from my dad. A month later this guy is moving into my home with his kids. I'm trying like hell to have some faith in something. I don't like this guy at all. I have A BAD feeling about him. The kids are ok and the puppy is annoying.
Go figure. The more I stay here the more I want to burn this house down. This is not home and this is not family anymore. You told me never to forget my family, yet you're the one forgetting me. I'm left behind thanks to your greediness. I'm being ridiculously blunt. Perhaps its the wine talking. I regret becoming a Doucette. When asked to be adopted I should of said no. I should of never let Dad marry mom. I should of been more aggressive when Dad was staying out all night. I knew he was cheating. I fucking knew it. My parents never told a lie... HA! I have no faith in family. Doesn't matter which of the four sides it comes from. I've seen all the lies and favoritism. It makes me remember the only person you can trust besides possibly a spouse, will be yourself and only yourself. I have a war going on in my head to try to reverse that statement. I want to be able to trust in someone in my life, in the family that once was. It seems like it won't happen.
The only person I am able to trust in is Jess. Other than that I tend to watch my tongue, at all times. What can I say? I observe and then act. I don't believe that people are good. I have faith in hardly any of them. Pretty much if you're human go fuck yourself. I don't trust your ass and probably never will. If you're in my little circle then you're lucky as hell. Otherwise go sit on a rusted spork and twist it. I'm done... I could rant until I literally was dead.
I just want to choke the living shit out of something. I want to watch the world burn. I want to scream until my lungs and veins collapse or my throat ruptures. I would love to slay all of the injustices of the world, but however I am not a god or goddess and nor am I fate. I do not have that power, I'm just bitch slapped by it. Breaking the glass of this mirror is only half of it. The battle is from within. Everything that I tried to rebuild within the last year has been taken away from me within a couple of months. So of course I'm pissed off! You would be too if you worked so hard. This is what I'm facing. This is what I'm loathing. There is no sense in asking why me. I just have to do it or watch it consume me again. This is my choice and this is my pain.
Blessed be. May fate inspire your general direction.
<3 Ping
I just want to bash my face into this mirror.
I stare trying to figure out what I did wrong. What did I do to deserve this? I place my hand on the glass and weep. The white hot tears flowing as I finally face the agony. Realization of this agony is crucial. At least that's what any wise person would say... but they do not know the secrets held within that agony.
I look down at my bare flesh of my arm. The thought of grabbing the nearest sharp object tortures me, but I shake it off. There is no use in causing unneeded pain to those around me. Even if most them are self absorbed. "Their ignorance will be paid for in full." That's the lie I tell myself as I try like hell to pry away from the mirror. I wipe a few more tears away as I try to convince myself not to let my thoughts wander. "Don't let your mind get the better of you. All it does is play nasty tricks on you." I push off from the counter and grab my coffee mug. I have no idea what beckons me to think of my home in Durand. I remember the rusty colored restaurant style booth in grandfather's kitchen. The white coffee mug with badly painted strawberries. I go to drink from the mug thinking that it was nothing more than juice or pop. My four year old self suddenly realizing what coffee was. Grandfather just laughed as he realized I hated the taste, and poured me a cup anyway. I drank it after putting a few spoonfuls of sugar in it.
I remember their home in Florida when my brother and I got into our first fist fight. My brother had stolen one of my toys and broke it. So I screamed at him. I don't remember who hit who first. I do remember kicking him off of me. He landed on a footstool. His eyes staring up at me as he screamed in bloody murder from hitting a metal edge. It had cut him good.
I remember another fight with my brother in my grandparents second home in Florida. My brother had sat on the computer for five days straight barely getting up to use the bathroom or anything else. He hadn't showered. He was in the middle of Diablo. I unplugged the computer and told him to shower. He got pissed off and took a swing at me. So I kicked him in the rib cage. He came after me and held me against the wall, choking me. I remember him yelling, "I'll fucking kill you for that bitch!" I stared him in the face, "Go ahead." At that moment he just let me go and punched a wall. Then he stormed off into the shower. I remember rubbing my neck and wondering why the hell he didn't finish me off then.
I don't know why these memories keep popping up in my head. Maybe its the fact my brother is gone from the house and I'm the only one left. Even though most of the time he was a pain in my ass... he was still my brother. I miss having him around. I wish there was some way I could convince him to come back. I don't want to be alone...
It kills me that my mother decided to choose her new boyfriend over her own kids. She met this guy at a bar a month after she's been separated from my dad. A month later this guy is moving into my home with his kids. I'm trying like hell to have some faith in something. I don't like this guy at all. I have A BAD feeling about him. The kids are ok and the puppy is annoying.
Go figure. The more I stay here the more I want to burn this house down. This is not home and this is not family anymore. You told me never to forget my family, yet you're the one forgetting me. I'm left behind thanks to your greediness. I'm being ridiculously blunt. Perhaps its the wine talking. I regret becoming a Doucette. When asked to be adopted I should of said no. I should of never let Dad marry mom. I should of been more aggressive when Dad was staying out all night. I knew he was cheating. I fucking knew it. My parents never told a lie... HA! I have no faith in family. Doesn't matter which of the four sides it comes from. I've seen all the lies and favoritism. It makes me remember the only person you can trust besides possibly a spouse, will be yourself and only yourself. I have a war going on in my head to try to reverse that statement. I want to be able to trust in someone in my life, in the family that once was. It seems like it won't happen.
The only person I am able to trust in is Jess. Other than that I tend to watch my tongue, at all times. What can I say? I observe and then act. I don't believe that people are good. I have faith in hardly any of them. Pretty much if you're human go fuck yourself. I don't trust your ass and probably never will. If you're in my little circle then you're lucky as hell. Otherwise go sit on a rusted spork and twist it. I'm done... I could rant until I literally was dead.
I just want to choke the living shit out of something. I want to watch the world burn. I want to scream until my lungs and veins collapse or my throat ruptures. I would love to slay all of the injustices of the world, but however I am not a god or goddess and nor am I fate. I do not have that power, I'm just bitch slapped by it. Breaking the glass of this mirror is only half of it. The battle is from within. Everything that I tried to rebuild within the last year has been taken away from me within a couple of months. So of course I'm pissed off! You would be too if you worked so hard. This is what I'm facing. This is what I'm loathing. There is no sense in asking why me. I just have to do it or watch it consume me again. This is my choice and this is my pain.
Blessed be. May fate inspire your general direction.
<3 Ping