AubreeDolkey
Believing is dreaming and my dreams are nightmares.
I once encountered a mime trapped in a box. It was a cardboard box. And it wasn't a mime. It was a homeless man named Dave.
You know what really grinds my gears? Donald Trump.
By killing him, I would lose my one last shred of humanity. Some would say it wasn't worth, but I would. No longer would I be confined or hidden from the world. No longer would I feel his unwanted touch or hear his hateful slurs. No longer would I suffer. He would instead.
Everyone was in attendance to your funeral. If I had a choice I wouldn't have been there. I wonder if any of them know how you really were behind the walls of our old brick home. I wonder they knew how close you were with the giant bottle of vodka hid underneath the kitchen sink. I wonder if they knew what was underneath all my makeup today. The bruises, the scars. Do they know? Or am I the only one harboring the secret?
Not all families are full of love and fond memories. Some are wrecked and only continue to go down a path of destruction.
Jim Gardner is my hero.
I would like to believe if you hadn't been drinking that one fateful night then it would never have happened. That you wouldn't have laid a single hand on me or a simply throw a kick. That you wouldn't have wrapped your bear-like paws around my neck and squeezed until my face turned purple. I would like to believe you wouldn't hurt me sober. That you wouldn't toss me aside and bang my head against a wall repeatedly. That you wouldn't slash my back with your belt or cut me deeper with your words.
I would like to believe I didn't exist.
"Follow me into the jungle. There will be no danger, only wonder. You will find nothing terrifying, only something rewarding. The deeper you go, the more alive you become. Please, trust me. Follow me into the jungle," the man said.
My subconscious told me to shake my head no and run away with my tail tucked between my legs. However, my mouth betrayed me and soon enough I was moving towards him with my hand out. My body was shaking, but I was not afraid. I knew it was the right thing to do.
I was nothing of value to you. I was worthless. Your love for me was never real, it was all a game. The late night phone calls, the chaste kisses in the hallways. They never meant anything. School was the hardest. The constant judgemental stares and nasty whispers. You made everyone believe it was me who broke your heart. You cut me open and then acted like you were the one bleeding.
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writing since 2016 · 18 entries · 17 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Nikana showed up.
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17days written
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the words Nikana reaches for
nowbeginningbehindfacelongerbelievewonderhowevershakeneckhandsbodydarkfullheadsupreme