(read forward, then backward, line by line)

I ran.
Not knowing what else to do
There was so much blood on my hands
It was mine
The kitchen knife
Caught in my chest
Guilt
Consumed by
Fear
I was heightened by
Adrenaline
But running on
Wasn’t enough
While trying to stay calm,
Losing control
It was me that would end up
Dead. Because
He was
In front of me
The whole time
It was too late
Trapped
I found myself
Locked in chains
My fate was
Death.

It still stings when i think of your hand slamming against my cheek
The first time you laid a finger upon me
I was only young at the time, too naive to understand
Little did i know, it wouldn't be the last time you harmed me.
You see the alcohol and the drugs
Were only temporary distractions
Long enough to keep me numb so i couldn't
Feel anything for a little while.

But sadly,
The more liquor i chugged back and the more
Smoke i inhaled into my lungs,
Praying that maybe this next hit would affect me,
That no matter what pills i took or what drugs i smoked
I could never get rid of the feeling of your piercing glare from that night
As you undressed me with your eyes like i was some kind of meat
While you sat waiting for your next meal which laid between my legs

It still burns when I think of your hand wrapped tightly around my neck
As i prayed you would finally end it all for me
That maybe if i ****** you off enough now that you would go ahead and do it
That maybe you would be framed for what you have always been doing
See you killed me long ago
Buried me 6 ft in the ground with any shred of dignity i still possessed
When you found me at 15 alone and afraid you pried upon that
Became my protector until i later realised it was you i should be fearing.

The victim mentality.
Whether it be based on your natural ways,
Or through pressure.
Evict yourself from it.

Whether its based on immaturity,
Or whose root cause is deep insecurity.
Push through it.
Achieve success.
Make amends.

Never offer forgiveness where its not warranted.
But be weary.
If you burn bridges,
The foundation might be intact,
But you would have to rebuild.

Can you handle it?

When I used to fall in love with rocks I
admired their smooth and jagged cuts.
The way they stuck up from their earthly ruts
or how they rolled evenly inside of caky sand.
Rocks were really my only love life plans.

Yet always still a rock.
And always from the earth, the rock will
form from violence into chalk.
When I used to fervor rocks

I would notice with great care
the way they curved and bent, allowing me to stare.
Indeed, I feel deeply in despair for my romantic love affair
with the always quiet rock
who would always fill me with hours of endless empty talk.

And after some years of this chatter and also through
witnessing the secret
violence of a smooth and steady stone
against soft and brittle human bones
I agreed that I would no longer fall in love with any type of rock.

The conclusion is now that
I no longer fall in love with any type of rock: a stone.

She could be both a colorless tasteless poison or the elixir of life it was how she felt that decided your drink.

Stinging souls to their core,  with her way she could both capture hearts or release them to her fire as she desired.

Damaged ego, too much pride, and a victims heart helped her slip past happiness to find fault in the other half.

Always running away but going nowhere, putting things behind her only to weigh her down, a victim of her own deeds, blameless.

She's blissful in her isolation, a prison she wishes she could break however that requires more than a glance in the mirror of honesty.

The beasts leached from east
Firing, bombing, slaughtering to feast
I could barely move a mile forget the quarter
Every corner laid body mass out of slaughter
I moved towards the dug ground
And laid there with all the pains that surround
I grief for all the lives lost
The helpless paid the price baring the cost
Laying in shallow pits are the scenes of the worst
We don't deserve this! I shouted and screamed
But only my echo replied as it seemed
Roting bodies, decaying fleshes, the unbearable sight
I lay in this grave today with no hope of bright
The smell of blood filled the atmosphere
No more pure, no one left to heal or cure
The plight of countries resulted with poor
Killing was the mission to endure
I look up the blood filled sky
That my time has come but I still grieve, why?
This world war tore the nations apart
If only there was no misunderstanding at the start
I hear the tanks roving in now, I hear the blasts
Don't know how long this war will last
Now I close my eyes, as I've been hit
Right here where I lay in this pit
I am next,
Here death, welcome me in your nest...

                                         Sincerely,
                                       ~The War Victim~


©sim

It’s not about you
I promise that much is true.
I know you want to help me
But i cant be helped or saved you see

I confide In you
When I’m feeling blue.
Because i know you always make me feel better
You take away the hurt.

But when i hurt myself
It’s not because you failed to bring me back to health
It’s because I’m not sane
In helping me, there is little satisfaction to gain.

I promise youre helping
Though i know i make you feel like you’ve failed.
I make you want to bail.
Trust me i know, that’s what I’m always telling me.

You make me happy
When i feel so ******* ******.
That’s talent right there,
And it’s slowly changing me, but nothing is fair.

I know, i know
You take one step forward, i take two back.
I know you’re not going to attack,
I want to reach out to you
But my inner hatred declared you foe.

And i dont mean to hurt you
When i do the things I do
I know it’s frustrating not being able to force me to stop
You feel like my depression will always be on top.

And maybe you’re right,
Maybe I’m unfixable
Maybe I’ll never see the light
Maybe my anti self worth takes too much of a toll.

So maybe it is all useless,
Maybe I’m just some ****** up mess
And you’re trying to fix this
Any advance you make is dismissed.

So im sorry
Im not exactly a good victim
All i know is how to keep committing this single sin.
Maybe you should just go.
Because saving me is really not gonna be worth it, ya know?

maybe it's the fact i've been living in garbage, surrounded by rotting food and ***** laundry, because i can't find the energy to get out of bed, because i've been to depressed to anything but eat and feel sorry for myself and stew in not only my own sweat and dirt but my suicidal thoughts.

maybe it's the yellowing teeth because of the countless cigarettes i smoked to get the approval i craved of my boyfriend--sorry, EX boyfriend--who dumped me for seeking acceptance from his friends because it reeked of narcissism, because i was acting out of low self esteem and desire for validation.

maybe from the early signs of gum disease because of the substance abuse i was groomed to believe was the new vogue, or because blacking out every night is what freshman do and not a concerning coping mechanism i was using to hide a bigger issue.

maybe it's a result of the judgmental looks and comments on my worth from men and women alike because of my self medication in the form of intimacy and ****** attention--the ease at which i could be led to bed: through a lazy, slurred compliment and promises of a ride home in the morning (and not to mention means of keeping my mind off of my trauma.) or how after spending my last $10 at the bar i would consistently rely on my ability to give a peep show of the same body that was violated a year ago for a free shot of tequila that burned all the way down and a grimy slice of lime.

or maybe it's because despite it being over 365...366...367...too many ******* days since his filthy hands and body introduced itself to mine uninvited, despite not 1 but 2 police reports, despite 5...6...7...endless calls with victims advocates, despite 1...2...who knows how many failed semesters, despite 1 too many failed suicide attempts....

i was still *****.