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Mariah · (), · female · 23 years old · registered since 2015 · last online - today

A Short Story: The Acid Washing of The Spirit

Poems ·

She heard the clanging and the sighs coming from the kitchen and she tried her best not to wince at every aggressive cuss word that was tossed around. Her eyes were glazed with the look of failed reckoning and her spirit was at invisible as the very breath she breathed.

All at once, she felt this clambering sensation of helplessness and a heavy conviction of her future falling down upon her. She felt breathless by the images of the loneliness that she couldn't bear to feel again. She looked back at the empty bedroom in her apartment, the silence of an empty house. No one to love, no one to hate, no one but herself.

She felt that same insanity that she had felt before. The same insanity that drove her to put cigarettes out on her body at a party like some sick magic trick. It was an unsettling feeling but unsettled is exactly what she felt. She hadn't felt at home in a long time and when she did, it was when she was left alone for days at a time. She was then forced to pretend in this fantasy that she owned this house but she couldn't pretend that that these things on the floor belonged to her. They seemed out of place because she couldn't find a place that they belonged.

What am I going to do, she thought to herself.

The thought of being unloved was almost unbearable but wasn't this what she was feeling right in this moment? Two strangers, one house, divided by the secrets that kept them. She's made mistakes in her life. Grave mistakes. But she won't let herself be deterred from love or from the object of being loved. It's a silly thing, she thought to herself. For this kind of thought process was one she tried to fight against her whole life, but here she was, pondering what person she might be is she wasn't love by some other human being in the most intimate of loves.

But she knew the answer. She'd be lonely, but she'd still be herself.
A stronger self if not more so.

She was longing for reconciliation, but alas, she was fighting for the attention of those who she no longer felt the need to fight for. She felt as if this was some sort of karma for the way she treated past lovers and the only way to end the cycle, was to start a different circle of motions.

Still, she felt still and helpless. She felt caged and enraged. She felt the nothingness that only a bottle of mid-grade alcohol could bring her and that self-induced numbing was all too familiar.

She didn't have the energy to ponder any more on it tonight, she just felt the need to process through this senselessness she'd be drudging through.

December 2nd, 2016 04:52
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