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Yielding - rants and rambles
alessiana
alessiana
Yielding
i've been beating my room for weeks and it proffered a book of poetry i wrote in early 1996.  does this mean i won?  i don't think so because the proffering only rendered heartbreak.  there are notebooks and boxes of writing.  i cry with remembered agony

i looked at my hard drive.  it's full of text files.  notepad is the easiest software in the world, but in the end, it's all about the fucking paper, isn't it.

A rhetorical question, that.  we know the answer.

i found the god damned pen.  that fucking pen.  that fucking pen.  i found notebooks from years i don't know when and illegible faded pencil.

i found the evidence of my abuse.  this hurts so bad.  i can't believe i lived through that. and now?  i know i should have left the room alone.  i should have left it for my children to discover. 

i feel crippled inside outside and in circles.

i have to go to work tomorrow.  i can go but only if my eyes are not swollen.

.

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Comments
anon_j_anon From: anon_j_anon Date: December 28th, 2009 08:25 am (UTC) (Link)
Imageless


The speechless come
In but two kinds:
Those who need no words
For they know the image,
Those who have no images
So need all words.


(2007)

--

From my own pages of remembered agony.



I love you.

Kindred
alessiana From: alessiana Date: December 28th, 2009 04:06 pm (UTC) (Link)
Kindred Thank you for sharing and solace. Thank you for reading in the first place. I did not expect a reply and was surprised to find one. It resonates with me as yeah... I'm there right now. It is odd to consider something 15 years old as one's "early period" when one is already middle aged. Am I really that old? Yes. Did my words inspire? Yes. Should that lift my spirits? Perhaps, but it is hard when ones actions are to push away those we love. My reflex to this kind of pain is to curl up and retreat. That's where I am. I am a -strikeout- fearful -/strikeout FEAR-FILLED creature. But thank you for everything. There is no greater gift then inspiration. I will love thee too, just know that if I slam the door, I love thee no less. I simply hate myself, ever more. ps FUCK the lack of formatting. What is this shit? Fuck it .

Edited at 2009-12-28 04:11 pm (UTC)
anon_j_anon From: anon_j_anon Date: December 28th, 2009 06:08 pm (UTC) (Link)
My instinct
is to kill.
Sometimes
myself
sometimes
everyone else.

http://anon-j-anon.livejournal.com/51671.html
I wrote this a few weeks ago, after __ happened. After I was done fantasizing about annihilating the world, I wrote this. There is no solace in it, only nothingness.

and yeahfuck formatting
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