writing: Am I Making You Feel Sick? (original work)

originally posted on my AO3: link

you recognize this feeling, sitting in some obscure area. where even are you? does that matter? can you feel the rot beneath your skin, creeping, infecting, swallowing up every thread of "purity" still left in you? can you feel the ache in your chest, so hollow but so so heavy at the same time? can you remember the sound of the laugh, the hand the guided you, the tickle of hair against your skin, the warm embrace of alovednother one? when did this ache begin, the sickness finding its way into your bloodstream and swallowing up your bones like quicksand, burying you under this heavy weight, this guilt? the memories are so unclear, they make you sick, but you have  to know, have to have that closure (or do you?), have to understand. did I hurt them too, you think, did I give them that same suffering, was I the one who taught? in the same way he taught Him, did I teach Her? was that me, or was it someone else, who initiated, god my head hurts so bad but I have to keep digging I have to understand please let me understand, let me remember so this terror leaves my bones (I cannot handle the thought of being just like Him). does she remember, does she hate me for it, does she also blame me? what I would give to understand, to remember, god why can't I remember? flits of memory, fuzzy and whispy like smoke, trying to grab them but the moment I see it's stolen from my grasp once more, impossible to hold onto, please god let me remember