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inNOcence.

by amanda-stoddard

I broke for the seventh time this month- "why are you so goddamn fragile?" I ask myself as I undress my thoughts in a mirror as the tears stream steadily down the sides of my face mascara stains my eyeballs and burns into my mind. I can feel everything now. The running of my makeup causes a chain reaction to me running toward the sink to wash out what makes me feel okay. After it is done- and the makeup is cleared from my eyes it seems I still don't see things clearly. "why are you so goddamn fragile?" I saw him again today- it seems I am seeing his face in everyone nowadays. I don't think I'm actually over it I don't think the experience will ever leave my mind and every single man but a few seems to have his eyes- the square shape of his head and the curve of his spine that I don't think he actually has because who needs a backbone when you spend your youth taking away someone else's. Mine- It was the seventh year of my life and you took my backbone back then in the black basement, blanketed with self-condemnation. You see innocence is an antonym for guilt- but what happens when you took away one and caused the other? What does that leave me with now- Innocence means the opposite of guilt which is to say childhood and you do not share the same zip code but somehow I let you invade my home and seek out refuge inside my ribcage now I find you in every corner, encompassing the outline of every male figure I encounter. "why are you so goddamn fragile?" I saw you seven days ago- in the face of the man at TGI friday's then again in the face of a man waiting in line at the store then again in the outline of a shadow then again in the nightmares I keep waking up to. "why are you so goddamn fragile?" I keep repeating to myself until the sound of your voice fades to just background noise until the soft hint of you breathing on my neck doesn't seem familiar to me anymore until I stop feeling ashamed of what you have made of me. There once was a home inside of me but now it is just a house fire- burning down any memory of you here you made it too hard to breath although this smoke encases my lungs- and these pills aren't the blanket on the fire like I wanted them to be they still seem to help ease the burns. See you are nothing but ash and dust- The lining on the inside of my throat that keeps me from spilling your name. Your shadow in the back of my mind will become nothing in the wreckage I have ensued upon my skull. "why are you so goddamn fragile?" Haven't you learned? The most prized possessions are.
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amanda-stoddard
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Written by
amanda-stoddard
Published
Oct 20, 2015
Time
4m
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