"The Stumbling Girl Is Ranting - Part Seven"

        I'd much rather be a leper or an animal of some sort, with a stout nose, scales for skin and narrow eyes that could watch from far away so I never had to deal with people though there weren't many people to deal with anyhow. People never really liked me ever since I could remember and I never quite knew why, my mind can only fathom that people didn’t like me because I’m little odd—perhaps a bit unstable. Why is it that crazy people don’t get away with anything but the real criminals who rape and murder get away with a slap on the wrist and I can prove this theory, or more fact? The thought of sex sort of scares me in a way I can’t explain and I don’t know why because all my friends like it and I always thought I should too but for a reason I either don’t know or remember (though now I do) I just don’t; it makes my heart thump in my stomach and the butterflies start to kick almost like my lips don’t belong to me and there’s a numb feeling. I’ve kissed people before but most of the time it comes out wrong, a pile of cards all over the floor, and I can’t breathe. There’s a fire in my gut as I think of the closeness between myself and another, fear and glass swirl in a demise that I can’t ever overfill unless I scream, there’s always going to be someone to hurt me no matter what and I wish I could tell someone why I thought like that all the time, why my mind wouldn’t let me believe otherwise. It reminded me of when I was younger and I put in a tape of what I thought to be Care bears but what was really a sex tape between my parents, I thought of how I sat there staring at it confused and scared—wondering why my father was hurting my mother like that, though now I know what was really going on and I realize why my mother got so mad at me for seeing it. Nothing I ever saw as a child was ‘innocent’ according to my therapist but I know she doesn’t know anything, ignoring her word may be stupid but believing someone who never has time for me would be a mistake I didn’t want to make again.
     Have you ever thought of making fun of someone just because you feel bad about yourself? I have and I’ve done it too, I feel horrible about it and I wish I could go back in time though no one can’t. Every time I want to be nice I end up being cold though that was the old me I can still feel that ice queen lingering in my soul. It’s not that I wanted to really hurt that person but she wouldn’t shut up. It's like I can feel them on my fingertips, those little people babbling and mocking me from under the safe cloak of darkness so I can't see them. Secrets, I had some but I gave them all away and I'm alone here aren't I? In this room? With this blanket of ice and screaming stiff pillow. Didn't I just realized that I'm shaking under this bruised skin and no one can see me but that stupid reflection but she doens't care, she can't stop shaking either. I left the window open, that's why. Do you think he could hear me from here if he really, really wanted to and I don't just mean a mumble I mean the whole damn thing I'm screaming at the top of my lungs.
        LET ME GO. I don't want to be here anymore, I forgot to tell you I was trapped in this hole made of sweat and regret, guilt and pain, and blood--lots of blood. Though it's my own drink, my wine, dripping from the pale crisp lips of a woman too strong to stand up erect. He won't leave me alone, will he? Those eyes and that smile staring at me through (broken) darkness. It's all right because he loves me, feeling worthless though about it. Somewhere in the world there's a girl with a pretty smile, she knows she's beautiful and her eyes will look over at the tower I hide in, the one I long to shatter and crumble within. I used to have this puppy whose name I don't remember and he was brown and white just like the dog I had at the time. He didn't know any better, when we threw the toy he wasn't supposed to get it, the bigger dog growled and shouted. When finally the puppy bit the toy, at the same time the older dog snapped sinking her teeth across the puppy's snout. Blood sputtered free from the wound as I stared, red dribbled like drool from a baby's mouth onto the wood floor.
          I am that puppy. You are that dog.
I never learn.
          Even when my mouth is sliced open in red.
Tear me apart.
          That's the only way to stop this terror.

                              Please.
                  Let me destroy myself.
You say you 'love' me.
But,
    no one loves a girl whose fallen.