Lost and Searching

Posts tagged “Pain

Blood and Doubt

Always on the outside,
Forever looking in.
Withholding who I am,
And holding it within.

Words press against my lips,
Like an insect in its shell.
Rotting in my mouth,
And condemning me to hell.

I cut myself open,
Hoping to let them out.
But all that comes forth,
Is blood and doubt.

I do not know my fate,
But I know it’s not with you.
So I search and dig for hope
Through my jaded world view.

Wondering, is pain all I have,
Or is there something more?
If this is all there is,
What do I hold onto it for?

I have to find the strength,
To overcome my fears,
To slay these demons,
To step past these tears.

For the hope of something more
Is greater than the pain of nothing left
So I struggle on
Heartbroken and bereft.

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My Maleficent Protector

I torture myself with every word
Those said and those unspoken
Looking for the meaning behind them
Laying myself open to their truth

I bathe myself in it
Seeking those things that hurt
Just so that I can feel
Just to avoid the emptiness

Numb for years and years
Looking for solace in anything
I cut myself upon the words
Seeking respite in the pain

I hold it close to my heart
Seething and burning
Worn like a cursed saint
My maleficent protector

When there is nothing but pain
The violence escalates
Feeding on itself
And breeding its filth

Corroding and consuming
Eradicating and extirpating
Destroying everything it touches
Until I am empty again

Where once I found perverted solace
There is abject nothingness
And the cycle ends
Waiting to begin again

 

I would give it all to you
If I thought you could handle it
If I thought you could survive
But you are not my salvation

 

 

I never asked for any of this
I just wanted to be normal
Instead I found comfort in pain
And gave it everything I was

 

 

 

I do not seek your ruin
The way you seek mine
I’ll destroy myself soon enough
With your help or without

 

 

 

 

Do I go on
Or does it end here
Where do I find the will
To choose one or the other


Writing to You: Ghosts of What Never Was

Do you ever spare a thought,
For the one you forgot,
Your misbegot?

Do I cross your mind,
With a thought unkind,
Or am I left behind?

But I know I do not,
For in everything I sought,
I knew it was all for naught.

Because I can see,
That it’s not me,
And we will never be.

No matter what I do,
Nor how much good I sew,
It is not enough for you.

I want to stop writing to you, or you, or even you. It’s pathetic at this point. There’s nothing but pain and sadness in the words I can give to you, for that is all you’ve given me.

I want to write to Her. I know there is something happy to write about there. Even if she turns out to be you, there will be a period of happy things to write. I expect to die alone, so I very much look forward to those brief times when you are Her, even though I die each time She becomes you.


Single: a Gaping Void

Your version of single is very different than mine. When you look back, you look back with knowing and understanding. You look back and you get to remember those past relationships that you had, even though they failed.

Me? I get to look back and remember my fuck ups. I look back and hear “oh man! Do you remember her? That was one of the ones you fell in love with! But do you remember what she thought it was? She just thought you two were really good friends. She said you were like her brother, you dumb sack of shit! Her brother! Ha! How could you not see she didn’t feel the same way? Idiot!”

There are no truly happy memories for me. All of my relationships weren’t, even when I thought they were. No matter what I thought, it was always wrong. They never called me boyfriend or thought of me as anything other than friend. For whatever reason, I wasn’t good enough to be that for them, not even when they told me things they didn’t tell their boyfriends. I was always on the outside looking in.

Your version of single is a separation. You are in between relationships. Maybe you’re actually looking forward to it because you haven’t been “just you” in a while. You’ve been here before and you’re pretty sure it will change soon enough.

For me, it’s a void. It is a complete and utter lack of anything. I don’t know if it will ever end. I never even wanted this, I just have to survive it.

You wonder who the next one will be. I wonder if I’m going to die alone eating lead.


Just a Pity Fuck

It’s kind of hard to accept that I was pity fucked. It’s degrading. She didn’t have any sort of interest in me, she just did it because she felt bad.

All I can really think to say here is “I wanted to feel pretty”, which is kind of absurd to think as a male, but it’s mostly true. I wanted to feel desired, like I fucking mattered.

I felt nothing like that. I could tell she was bored. That hurt. She didn’t even really try to make it seem like she cared, although she certainly fucking loved it when I ate her out. She didn’t really seem to care whether I liked it or not.

It hurts. It was my first time and it was degrading. I enjoyed it in the moment, but it has only caused me more issues. It wasn’t what I wanted. Not fully. I did want sex, but I didn’t want meaningless sex. I wanted something special, something I could remember fondly. What I got was… I don’t know, but it certainly wasn’t what I wanted.