My mind is circling again. The demons of old are whispering in my ear and I am listening. God. Why do I listen?
You’ll never be good enough. You’re not worth it. You should be a better artist. You aren’t intelligent enough. You should be sexier, more hip, in touch. He’ll never make his way through the walls you’ve built up, don’t even try. Give up. Loser. What’s the point?
On and on and on they raise their wicked heads, vile breath spewing forth… lies? They can’t all be lies, can they? There must be some truth otherwise why would I listen?
Suddenly they don’t look so demonic. Black eyes fading to brown. Sharp nails flattening out. Why are my cheeks wet?
Fucking dumb bitch. Pull it together. You’re being ridiculous. No one wants to see that. Pointed teeth shorten. Stench fades to stale air. Arms wrap around me. I can clearly see my way out of this. It would be so easy. So simple.
You’ve done it before. What’s stopping you from finishing it? Oh that’s right. You’re that reprehensible cunt. Can’t get one thing right. Perfect reason to end it. I bow down with the weight of my reality on my shoulders. Drop to my knees. Fall to my side, curled up in a ball.
Tears flowing, pathetic sobs wracking my body. It doesn’t help but it’s all I can do. Why did I think it would all work out? Just this once. I so badly wanted it to work.
Where is help when I need it? Strong arms to pick me up. Or even his body curled up next to mine, absorbing. Comforting. Thumbs brushing away my tears.
No. I won’t ever have that. I made sure of it. Constructing thick walls of protection so that whenever anyone tries to get close, I can retreat there. So far no one has breached these walls.
The loneliness hurts but certain betrayal would hurt even more. So I’ll keep laughing loudly and crying behind my hands and showing a good face for the world. But inside I’m slowly dying behind these walls. I desperately need someone to come tear them down. Prove me wrong. Build me up. Make me new. Whole.
But I know it’s not meant to be. It will never happen for the despicable likes of me.
Fuck you, demons…. wait, it’s just me lying here alone. Were they ever here? Or perhaps they shut up because I don’t need them to tear myself down.
I already know the truth. I am exactly what they said I am.
And so, logically, if they spoke the truth, then they must instead be angels of light. Yes. That must be it. I was certainly mistaken. It wasn’t demons I hallucinated, they were definitely angels. And since they are truth-sayers, the answer waiting before really must be my way out.
Forget the blade this time. This bottle of pills ought to do just as well. Better even. This time I’ll do it right, This time I’ll be my own savior. This time I’ll end the pain for good.
tara caribou | ©2018 (revised 2019)
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