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Trauma Vent - Blog Posts
I honestly can't fucking wait to move out my parents house, my mom is being such a bitch all because I told her how I felt when she talk to my therapist about things I wanted to talk about
There's mold on these bones,
Vines encircling the limbs.
Flowers are blossoming all around, and yet none get to us.
Mushrooms lay in their absence, creating a crown.
Movement is hollow.
It rains, no drops reaching my lips:
For they fell off when the worms ate them.
Exhaust and wings flapping around entice my numb senses.
I stand for I can't sit. Everything identifiable has rotten off of me, including ligaments and skin.
No one can tell me she's going to come back.
Wind gushes through, yet still unwavered.
A water stream nearby makes barely a noise, too shallow.
Passersby are never the same, blank faces to never be recognized after; home lays within their town.
Begging to go back to what once was,
All I can do is listen to the nearby churches hymns.
I have so much to say,
warn people so then they would avoid the agony I endured.
If only corpses could roam.
To R,
I gave you everything and forgot who I was; you lived with me, I stood my ground when you mother screamed at me and threatened my family. I kicked that door down when you od'd, I always defended you. I was there when V was in the hospital and all you did was sob. You almost killed me multiple times and I forgave you. You threatened to kill yourself multiple times to get me to stay, and I did. You stole my money, you used my name to steal. In the end you ghosted me, in the end you told them I was crazy, in the end you lost someone who saw you as a sister. You won't use me again and I remember who I am, goodbye for good. - A
I'm finally angry at the way that I was treated.