� I used to write on paper plates � 2006-06-25 � 10:23 p.m. �
~I've been writing in here a lot since the phone rang that one lonely afternoon when all I really wanted to do was sleep. It rang once...
It range twice...
My life sorta stopped.
I've been writing because if I'm not writing... I'm thinking about the day when... and I get this bitter taste in my throat like too much acetomenophen... and then I crave it... and I remember all those pills - the ones that will stop my heart if I try... if I dare.... I remember them... and my heart wants them.
Would I dare?
I don't know.
I have everything to live for. I'm young.
I've tried helplessly to talk about it... dialed number after number until my fingers went numb...
Again... boys's promises...
Again friends's promises...
And all I can think of when I slam down the phone is fuck you... for exisiting to begin with.
My body hurts.... my mind hurts... it's mental manifesting into physical... and nothing will ever take away the urge now... no, not now... the urge to taste the bitterness.
I am 16... I'm only 16... these really are his feet on my back... and I worked so fucking hard to get rid of the song in my head... but he sings it to me to help me sleep.
Fuck him for being born... I think... fuck him for pretending... for kissing me. He is Judas... but trust me, I'm not Jesus. I could have lived through if if he hadn't kissed me.
I'll never kiss again.
I'll never kiss and mean it.
He tasted like acid on my tongue. I couldn't cry enough to get rid of it and all I could think of was how will I tell my dad about this? How will I tell him. Will he still love me?
I can't.
I can stare down viles of pills and pray to the Graces to give me enough strength to swallow - if I prayed - I could.
I could tell my mother.
No, no I can't.
My brother just killed a boy, or have I already forgotten? Am I so absorped in my own tragedy that I forget already that my family is in ruin?
I can't be that selfish.
So what will I do... but dial the numbers of boys who promise to save me just to hate me... again.
I want Marc to come home.~
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