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The Beaten Slaughtered Heart of Addiction
The Beaten Slaughtered Heart of Addiction
I am floating in a sea of conviction. I have this churning in my stomach, this urge. My breath is heavy like the wind, and I cannot seem to keep my hands from shaking. Fire has been lit to my eyes; my insides are ice cold. I am consumed in waves of anger and the worst pain I have ever endured. Dressed in a gaudy, pink dress full of hope and love, I should feel beautiful, wanted, but all I am allowed to feel is hate and disgust. I am on the cusp of sane and mad. I am desperately clinging to life by a mere piece of thread that is burning through my flesh.
Satan has a persistent clutch on my heart, dragging me down into the depths of existence, barely missing death. I take it just a step further. I must. I relinquish my life into your hands. I let you touch me and kiss my perfumed neck. I let myself fall headfirst into your abyss, and you make me numb. You cease my desolation.
As delicate as a feather, you float through the seas of my venomous blood. Your touch pierces through my skin like razor blades and sharpened knives. Your kisses stab and steal like they have a right. Yet, you are my angel, my ever forgiving, saving grace. Abused and neglected, I may never be perfect, beautiful. You wash my hands in velvet red. My soul may never be white again. I love you despite.
Placing a mask of color-coated beauty and the ideal appearance of pure joy upon my face, I travel back to that day, the day it all began. As anyone might imagine, it all started when two strangers, unaware of the other’s existence, became friends. Our friendship began festering the same day my life started to fall from the white into gray matter. I confided in you, and to my surprise, not only would you be the hero of the night February 10, 2012 but also the conqueror of the rest of my days.
We went from friends to soul mates at the speed of light. Soul mate is an understatement. You are my beloved. I could not even attempt to recall the moment I fell in love with your captivating eyes. Who would have thought you would give me such a rush?! Who knew you would make my skin tingle and crawl? I craved to be in your arms, and soon our every entity, our beings as a whole were woven together ever so tightly, almost too tightly. Our bones fused together; our skin ripped and evolved as one. We are one.
It is here we will take our intamicy to the extent of the ocean blue with the vastness of the sky and everything in between. Here in the hall of stained glass windows and the hopeful ruins of my past, we wed. The beginning and the end of my life is just emerging.
The church in and of itself is simply stunning to say the least, seemingly perfect, incapable of possessing any more beauty. And even so, your presence is an exception. From head to toe, you are dressed in satin black. You look immaculate. Your face glistens under the fluorescent lights of the sanctuary where you stand, hands clasped being your back, at the front of the alter. A closer look at your complexion and you look hungry for my company, impatient. Your soul is serrated, as if I were to take you into my arms, you would impale my heart, ripping life out of my already loose grip. I cling to you anyway.
My dearest father once attempted to save me from your addicting danger, until the moment he decided he could care less if I threw myself into the arms of a man who would literally take my breath away. All I ever wanted was for my father to love me, accept me. My desires were much too large for reality. He is now what walks me down the aisle to my death bed in a gown stitched together with artificial contentment and broken promises, stained in you fatal love. Where his one job was to love and nurture his baby girl, he could not keep his hands to himself. He spat murderous words, his blows ever so harsh. Was this your punishment for indulging in what I defined as true love? If I am mistaken, you never proved love to be anything more than painful.
Down, down, down I go further and further from the light, further from hope. I cannot speak. I cannot breathe. These are the consequences of pouring myself into you. These are the consequences of putting my fate in your hands. You were my faith, and now you are the water. You are the mighty waves. You are the deep, dark sea. You drown me, and I allow you.
“Take my hand,” you beg. “Let me hold you, my love.” Where solace is found in catastrophic vices rather than my own skin, I weep into your chest and give into you just once more. “I don’t care if it hurts. I wanna have control” (Radiohead, “Creep”). As we take the plunge once again, this time I do not hold my breath.
I will allow you to force my head from the gray matter into the unfathomable blackness. I will willingly sink to the depths of the ocean. I will be patient, and I will not reject the oxygen escaping my lungs. I will encourage my organs to shrivel as all color fades from my face. I will proclaim, “I DO!”, and I will allow you to place the ring of eternal Hell upon my finger. I will be loyal and faithful. I will always love you…
I am but a memory. Now, I am nothing but invisible. Were the chance given to me to share a few last words, I would have one message for my darling father.
Daddy,
Yes, I blame you. Every mark, every scratch, ever cut, every gash, every scar; this is all your fault! No, I do not forgive you for 15 years of lies. It was not until too late that I realized it wasn’t my very own fault, that I did nothing to deserve this. I will never forgive you! I hope it is you who unknowingly stumbles upon the bloody knife that took your little girl’s life. I hope it is you who has to clean up the mess that was ultimately you fault. I hope you feel remorse and regret. I hope you drown in a flood of tears, as I did. I hope this guilt eats you alive. And I pray my death lingers in the air and haunts you for the rest of your life.
You with the stained wrists and thick scars- you are purity, and I will be your peace. This world is our yin and yang. It is time to seize the day! Do not allow the masterpiece that is your life to crumble right before your eyes. Do not give your demons permission to trample you into dust. Don’t you dare give in! Fight for your happiness, for your life. We do not deserve what we inflict upon ourselves. We are worth so much more than the whispered lies we keep believing. This was never our fault. You must understand that! You are stronger than your adversaries, your transgressions. You are strong like Atlas who carries the world and all of her worries. I believe in you. It is time to start believing in yourself. We will overcome this together. We will be suppressed by the might waves no longer!
Works Cited
Radiohead. “Creep.” Pablo Honey. Sean Slade and Paul Q. Kolderie, 1993. CD.
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Hello, all! I am a 10th grader who has trudged through many different trials in the past. I wrote this paper to speak into the lives of those who struggle with similar things.