Broken Things

Sometimes I wish I could fix everything that shatters me, my brain, my heart, my soul.

Sometimes the pain never goes away, never seems to break its bond as I try to dissociate into endless pit of nothing.

The girl that could never keep anything for long enough to show her true self, to tell her story, her pain. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like a weight of her shoulders if she calls out for another soul, it just feels worse as she sinks down below the surface of her own trauma.

How could I escape him? The face I see in my nightmares as he crawls in way in my flesh, making me not as pure, making her not as pure as she used to be. A wall was built after that, an endless circle of cold stone.

Sadness turns to anger the gets turned onto others, onto herself, onto the person she loves. If only she could wish for him to not have touched her so long ago, years ago. If only she had said no instead of nothing and let it go on the way it did, but the problem was even if she did he wouldn’t have stopped.

Sometimes I wish I could fix broken things…