"I feel like someone after a deluge being asked to describe the way it was before the flood while I'm still plucking seaweed out of my hair." ~ Norman Rush
I wish I could conquer this.
You.
Do you see?
Do you see Logan?
What you've done to me.
Look at me.
It feels like another life.
The one I had before you.
When I was fearless.
A soul filled chaos,
and a reckless mind.
When Delilah was synonymous with
dauntless.
vivaciousness.
life.
When I wore that leather jacket,
and those flowers in my hair.
I walked with no weight on my
shoulders,
despite my decrepit history,
living for the small hours,
trekking the streets of downtown,
in the unconquearble dawn,
one of a new age.
Filled with all the vibrancy youth
brings,
before adulthood leeches it from ones
bones.
Commanding attention wherever I
went.
When I stood on stage with my mates,
in one of those aforementioned grungy
little psychaedelic rock n' roll bars,
crooning to drug fucked teens,
about shit we didn't care for,
And I felt magnificent.
Positively,
Invincible.
Downtowns biggest girl.
Celebrating my wickedness,
with those glorious little pills.
Oh how they sang to me.
Oh how they still do.
The ones that took me to wonderland,
without ever leaving those darkened
rooms.
But you stole it all from me.
You stripped the bad girl bare,
raw with vulnerabilities.
From my protruding ribcage to my pale
toes.
Lay me down and 'loved me'.
Took everything I was,
made me everything I am.
Turned me into the kind of person I
despised.
A love struck fucking fool.
Leaving me with nothing but this
aching feeling.
Love.
That evil emotion that reaches into everything.
Parts of me,
that I didn't even know existed.
Making me hate each and every cell.
Till finally,
my own body,
the trappings of my very own mind,
feels like a cage.
Except,
I have no one to blame for but
myself.
I helped you to build it.
And now there's no escaping it.
You took the key.
And now your gone.
Fuck.
The lighter flickers as I light another
cigarette.
And another.
"Just one more" I whisper.
"Liar" I breathe.
I am closer.
I think.
But not close enough.
-Delilah
YOU ARE READING
a tragedy of some kind
General FictionP.S. I wish I never loved you. Oh how I wish -Delilah He burned like the sun, blazing from the tips of her fingers to her toes. He was like a weed that entangled her obtruding ribcage, intertwining her lungs, drawing out every ounce of breathe. She...
