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I said "no"
you kept going
I said "stop"
you said "I'm almost done"
I said "It hurts"
you said "It feels so good"

Afterwards I sat there blank faced
and you had the audacity to ask me if I was ok.
A shrug was all I could get out.

How could you do that to me?
Why would you do that to me?
How could I let you do that to me?
Why did I let you do that to me?
 Apr 2014 Kaitlin Collide
Raven
Sometimes I feel like drinking all my problems away
Cutting so they bleed away
Blowing them away with the smoke
Killing myself, leaving a note
Sleeping for hours just to pretend they're not there
And when I'm in a normal state
I can't even cry
I don't even know why
I try
I want to let it out
but it's all stuck inside me
so the only way to forget these demons
Is by doing all the bad things
With a big smile
and beating heart
I make it through
Thinking only the good
Just like I should
Won't you please just let me be
Please just leave me at my own peace

Won't you please just go away
When I say leave, I don't mean stay

When I push with all my might
Do not fight back, it is not right

When I stop and start to cry
Try not to look me in the eye

Do not try to fix my life
You were not the glue, but the knife

Say goodbye and let me go
Accepting all you do not know
I am guilt ridden

I can never do enough
I can never be enough
it is my fault

so here, I sit and shake
my clumsy bones tremble

but please
do not worry about me

I will save myself
if only I can find the time
I should have ripped
The stars from his eyes
And tossed them back to the moon

I should have stitched
Our wrists together for eternity
So he could hold me in the dark

I should have listened
To all those slaughtered petals
Because in the end - he loved me not
745

Renunciation—is a piercing Virtue—
The letting go
A Presence—for an Expectation—
Not now—
The putting out of Eyes—
Just Sunrise—
Lest Day—
Day’s Great Progenitor—
Outvie
Renunciation—is the Choosing
Against itself—
Itself to justify
Unto itself—
When larger function—
Make that appear—
Smaller—that Covered Vision—Here—
89

Some things that fly there be—
Birds—Hours—the Bumblebee—
Of these no Elegy.

Some things that stay there be—
Grief—Hills—Eternity—
Nor this behooveth me.

There are that resting, rise.
Can I expound the skies?
How still the Riddle lies!
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