Friday, 24 April 2015


I question every part of who I am
I question every part of who I am
It's hard to tell which side of me is in the right
With these two different people inside of me
Fighting for my life
Fighting for my life
I'd like to say I had one drink and came back home after the game was off the air. I'd like to say that I was a good girl and didn't follow my mind down the rabbit hole I once saw Cole go down, where I've been looking for him ever since. I'd like to tell you I learn my lessons but I didn't, I'm not, and I can't.

Instead I tore into the devil as only a true disciple can and when the sun rose it found me standing in a ray of light still gnawing on his soul that I held with one hand, holding one broken wing in my other hand, dragging it behind me on the ground, face covered with figurative blood and a ridiculous look upon my face that took hours to scrub off. He was barely intact when I walked out the door and the light burned as I hissed in return to it.

Fuck off. I told it.

But it burned on, pressed hard against my flesh, fading right through my muscles into bones that ached with the leftover darkness. My eyes are translucent like a cat, my teeth sharpened, my brain switched off as my instinct kicks in to destroy what was given to me at his own request. Tear me down and make me whole again, he orders, and so I do.

One single Baby doll would have stopped it. One single gentle touch would have ended it on the spot but he knew better and kept everything twisted so high not once did I hear myself. Not once could I pick out the sounds from the roar of his desire, not once did I recognize the time or feel the pain when he tore my flesh with his own teeth, so much sharper than mine will ever be.

You're bleeding. I'm sorry. He whispered in a still moment and I read his lips because the noise. Oh, hell, the unholy noise.

I was already broken. It's fine this way. I dismiss his concern. Don't show me that you're human now or I'll lose my nerve.

But I didn't. I kept it clenched in my fists, white knuckles curled into claws to hold on as it slipped and scrambled for purchase against me. My resolve, now burned off, looks back on the way out and laughs. You're tougher than you look, it observes.

I know this. I whisper back and let go of everything to turn to dust.