Everything That Matters

I am a maiden and death has come for me - my lover, my friend, my enemy. He runs from me when I call, hides when I beg and cry. Softly, a dream, painful waking. It was a dream, nothing more.

It is when I am asleep that I am emptied of myself. When I am awake I am stuffed to the brim, suffocating myself with myself, that I must escape. But death does not come when I cry for him. He poisons my mind with loves and lovers and wishes and desires. And I wake and they are gone, lies, no more.

I think he hates me.

He's a tease, but a deadly serious one. Sometimes I feel as if my heart is breaking and I just want to go, fly on the wings of eagles and not *be* anymore. And death laughs and gathers up my tears in his hands and drinks them and grows stronger. And now that he's here...

He teases again, I die because I don't, because I live. The pain of dying means you're still alive, not quite gone yet. God is merciful and I hate him for it, for breathing me into this world of sorrows, useless and alone.

No, not that - he loves me. But the knowledge of the holy is so far above me that I cannot grasp it, my mind refuses, it does not make a dent. But you can't deny the truth, whether you believe in it or not.

Why why why? Why won't he come, why won't he leave me alone? Why does it hurt, why won't it ever stop? I'm even tired of myself by now. Too many tears and they are common, common and forgotten.

He still drinks them, they still make him smile. Seems like he's the only one who cares. Rapist. Friend. Fucking torturer. Boy, mindless little boy. Raging god of vengeance. Hate you. Love you. Stay with me. Leave me alone. Forget me, forget me - dear God please remember me!

I just - don't want to be ashamed anymore.