Tag Archives: emo

Death is a reward.

by

I dreamed of him again, his fingers thrashing wildly in my clammed up vagina. My nipples were erect, not from pleasure, but from shame. His pot belly was sliding conveniently across my breasts, all the way up, till his penis found its way into my unwilling mouth, forcing my lips apart, the entire shaft went down my throat.

I grasped the sheets so tight, eyes clenched shut. A single, angry tear rolled down my cheek, disappearing down the snow white pillow without a trace. The room was silent, as though filled with a crowd of invisible, awkward spectators, all listening to the sound of me gagging.

He then fucked me, perspiration running down his temple. I laid still, my body stiffly rocking to his plunges. I wanted to throw up. I felt as though my ribs were buckling under his weight. I could smell his sweat and taste that overpowering stench of lust and greed. His penis stuck in like a sore entrapment.

“I will see you again. And I will fuck you harder. I own you, bitch.”

I left the room, my body felt like it was on fire. I wanted to throw my dirty self down a building. But all the inspiration quotes I read the day before acted like a guide, calming my frenzied mind, holding back my impulse… of death.

How can I die? I have to repay my parents for raising me. I have to make sure he won’t post up dirty stories of me, smearing my name with rancid bullshit even after I am stone cold in a casket.

I locked myself in my room, where I was supposed to feel the safest. I slapped myself over and over again. I deserved to be punished. For allowing a fat, disgusting mad man to degrade me this way. Desecrate my life, ripping it to shreds, until there’s no shadow to my own soul. I took out a whip and lashed out at my vagina. This disgusting piece of flesh that was raped and abused. I wanted so much, for it to be removed from my body.

The pain comforted me. I told myself this bitter punishment will relief me a tad bit from this horrible sin.  The physical treatment was like a weaponry pastor. I prayed to the rod for forgiveness.

I slammed my head against the wall, as if the memories could be knocked out from the impact.

*BANG*

*BANG*

*BANG*.

With each stronger blow I dealt, the lesser I felt. I continued doing it until everything goes numb, my face red from the hard slaps, my lower body paralyzed from the lashes. I lie down on my bed, quivering, shaking, crying. Still, my soul chose not to dissipate. Still, my heart beats. My body wanted to live. I had to crawl through the brambles of life’s cruel, existing torment.

I realized by then, epiphany through sheer misery; that death… is a reward.

And I do not deserve it yet.

Drag your feet, trudge through the grime. Let dirt decorate your skin but never taint your soul. Breathe, like the world owes you. Cling on harder and harder like an adamant root in the eroded soil. Cling on to life.

 

iced hearts, forgotten kisses

by

In commemoration it has been one month since he left, and for my dear friend ZA who recently lost the love of his life, I hereby dedicate this little post to him and all of the broken hearted ones out there; you are not alone.

I know it’s going to be the same every night before you head to bed, loneliness envelopes you and the devil’s advocate fills your mind with dire thoughts. I know the pillow just seem larger than before without her head resting on it, and your arms feel empty without the familiar embrace.

And throughout the night, your subconscious pass the hours with vivid dreams of desire, of longing, of how things used to be.

Waking up, I daresay to me, it’s the worst. You shoot out of bed with your heart pumping into overdrive. You feel as if you have fallen into an abyss. Of emptiness. Because when the sun rays hit your eyelids, you wake up to know every thing you have dreamt, is everything you want to dream.

That it’s not real. And she isn’t coming back. Your phone is silent. Yes you dreamt of her texting you. You dreamt of her saying she’ll agree to come back into your arms.

I know its going to be hard. We have all cried and lunged wildly at the cruel emptiness, head banging against the wall and screaming gibberish to the air. Until tears choked up your throat and your voice abandons you.

But things that don’t come easy will teach the best lessons. Do something different today. You can do it crying, like I did, but do it with pride. Clean your room. Learn how to bake macarons. Enrol in yoga. I chose the first. HAHA. Albeit my tears sloshing down whilst I dusted my wardrobe, I flopped onto bed, looked around my tidy and beautiful room and feel a sense of achievement.

And I learnt many things from this pain of a heartache. So will you. One of the things you’d learn is acceptance. Accepting that you are good in your own ways and that you should never beat yourself up for it. Unless of course you killed her whole family and cheated with her best friend then I think you ought to die. HAHAHA kidding.

Learn something from this pain. And don’t you ever ever dare to hate her. Alot of people (as like my ex) chose to hate me, to concentrate on the things I did to him (or things he assumed I did to him) and goes around spreading how much he hates me to people around because let’s face it, it’s easier to hate someone you used to love because it hurts lesser, and you move on faster. But it makes you vengeful and self entitled.

Don’t stoop to that level. Hold your head high and say it out loud. Yes, I am not ashamed to admit I still love you. I loved you, and I still do. Yes I am hurt that you left but I don’t ever, for a second, hate you. This will make you grow. It will open your eyes to see what are the things you have done wrong and you learn from it. Banking on other people’s mistakes will only make you deluded from your own.

Then who will it benefit?

Learn from your failed relationship and think about how you can do better next time. But don’t get it mixed up with self blame. I flooded my mind with all the things I could have done for him without realising that I was rationale at that point when I was IN the relationship, that the fact is I HAD done enough for him. There’s a difference between things you could have done but didn’t, and things you do not have to do, but you think it could have made things better. It wouldn’t.

If you gave your heart and loved wholeheartedly, don’t ever blame yourself for things not done and say it was your fault she left. It was nobody’s fault. It’s just so that we grow wiser by the day and we learn more. Our library of “Things that can be done” expands.

I know this sinking feeling in your heart is here to stay for quite a fair bit. But you need to be happy because your parents love you. And your siblings love you too. Even if you are bloody hell homeless and friendless you have me. You will have that someone that cares about you. Or it could be your dog or even the cockroaches that you breed in your room cuz you didn’t clean up. HAHAHA

Smile, and laugh. Okay? Be strong. Because someone out there loves you. And most importantly, you have you.

You are the power you need to be happy. To crack a few jokes. You are the energy that can drive you to do great things. Live better than the you yesterday.

Dont ever underestimate what pain can do to a person. If you channel it correctly, you will be invincible. Life is short, eat that steak and eat two butters to one bread. because you fucking can.