Intrusive: a spoken word

 

Image result for tumblr aesthetic footsteps

I want you to think, I want you to imagine, I want you to step into my shoes for a moment.

You had the best feeling you could ever EVER have with someone.

But you had to leave, not just for yourself but for him as well because above all else HEALTH must come before all wants and needs.

And you go to bed with guilt rising from the stomach into your  throat praying to God that you’ll wake up and he’ll still exist in the world for one more day.

You’ll never know what it feels like to truly touch him again because honey, you’re the mistake.

Because from now on you are a walking VOID of seduction with the scars of his past etched onto your skin and lingering on your lips.

The sound of your name makes him itch and scratch, pawing at the now raw skin that resides beneath his clothes.

He knows you would never hurt him and that’s what scares him the most.

Because you still care, and he doesn’t know why.

You imagine him staring up at his ceiling fan late at night asking why, why WHY, why am I still alive?

My love you fail to realize that YOU are his poison, YOU are the contamination he cannot control.

I want you to think, I want you to imagine.

The only bridge you have between you and him is someone you love like family.

But he goes to HER, she goes to HIM, he talks to HER, she talks to HIM, and you sit there and wait for an update.

You sit there and twiddle your thumbs like a scared little girl because you realize how insignificant you are.

It is not jealousy that bubbles underneath the surface of your skin.

It is the pure hatred of yourself and who you are.

How does it feel to know that the one person you care about the most can’t stand to look at you without feeling like they’re burning?

To know that whatever kindness you try to give will only make it worst.

 

To know that you are an INFECTION that ceases to heal itself.

My dear YOU are the problem, and I swear to GOD  you better bite down on that “I love you” unless you want him to reach for the noose.

Standing there, wide eyed and helpless, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU.

I want you to think, I want you to imagine.

I want you to step into my shoes.

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s