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429 · Aug 2014
a Masochistic Love
Rachel Aug 2014
Every heart fiber aches,
as they stretch with each rapid beat.
It’s a pain I haven’t felt before,
an alluring, addicting pain my body craves;
A masochistic drive through the innerds of my soul,
craving the racing pulse that causes my throat to close,
and muscles to tense in paralysis,
so all that can be felt is the desperate pounding
of my heart against my chest.
The pressure builds as if
it will at any moment escape and float away,
leaving my body in shock.
That losing the pain,
which comes every time I think of you,
would not bring the relief that I have escaped this self destructive lust.
Because without that pain,
I wouldn’t feel the hurt and longing that the stories tell.
The beautiful, scary, blinding burn of being.
To love and to care, without return.
Just  needing you to always be there
so the pain won’t go away.
361 · Aug 2014
Iphone
Rachel Aug 2014
I laid, a shriveled form of myself
Clutching at anything in an attempt
To stop this internal suffering
Of being broken into a million pieces.
It’s funny how you only realize the existence of your heart
At the time when it is ruptured and barely beating,
And the shell of you lies there paralyzed
in a pain that resembles nothingness.
I always thought I had the strength of ten men,
the will to survive through whatever happened.
The optimism and happiness that couldn’t be wavered
Even by the worst possible scenario.
And yet, I was broken, and bent,
And shivering in what felt like darkness,
That surrounded even my fantasy world
Of everything good.
Because even knowing I could slowly put the pieces together
Couldn’t help the feelings that they would never fit the same.
It reminded me of my iphone.
that fell a few times beforeactually hitting the rocky ground,
never shattering its resilient outer shell,
until that one time,
when it least expected it,
its screen shattered so it was missing one piece.
I think it was because that one piece, the sliver,
seemed so unimportant, and so replaceable,
That I felt like I didn’t have to worry,
That even if it wasn’t there it would be okay,
Because the rest made it almost whole,
And over time it could work just as well.
But it never was the same.
And as I sit here in this cloud,
Hoping that the sun will shine through,
To help reassemble what’s left of me,
I can’t help but think about that one piece,
That shard, the sliver, it’s seemingly negligible existence
That without it,
My phone couldn’t even function.
I have to wonder if you’re that piece.
And if you are,
What happens to me when you’re gone?
223 · Aug 2014
who am i
Rachel Aug 2014
Darkness
Sitting for hours
It crawling closer
Deeper.
It scares me to
Look,
But I can’t help but stare.
Am I looking into a moment of time
Or finally seeing what’s really inside.
All the same
I prefer my bright oblivion,
Where at least I can pretend
I am the person I want to be.

— The End —