dirty

different than my usual

if your not religious
fine

if you don't know God
fine also

i am not a religious person
i am a woman of faith

but i am dirty
filthy
in the eyes of him
covered in caked on dirt and smut

sin after sin of trying to fill my hunger of worldly things
to fill my lust hunger for love, sensuality
lust
to be loved

but no matter how many people
or how amazing the person was

i was always left hungry
unfulfilled
and dirtier than before

to fill my hunger of money
job after job
hour after hour of my life waisted away on material wants
and never socializing 
never being with god when i should have been
cursing every little thing
never thanking the things that were there in front of me
i was like a wind up toy
went to camp every summer
and was surounded by those who knew his love
and felt his love
and was able to have suport
and be strong in him

but...
returning home was like a coal stuck in ice
no support
no one to ask questions
or to lean on
and i wind down
and forgot about everything, everything went back to normal
the not caring
the hateful feelings
the yelling
the fighting
everything that never did me any good
but I was just good at


the thing is
is that you can try forever
to try and fit in, to try and impress the people you think you need to impress
but where does it ever get you? More money to spend on things you don’t need?
To use for things that hurt the body that was given to you
There are always those things that linger on us
Those things that heavy our hearts
Because knowing it is creating more filth inside of us
Was just half the battle
Because you could always just forget about it
Telling yourself you needed to do it
Even though
It didn’t fulfill your hunger any
Didn’t satisfy your craving
All you got was a pat on the back of the people who didn’t matter
And would be out of your life soon anyways

Then there are those times…
When you just feel dirty, and you scrub and scrub and scrub yourself for what seems like forever
And you never get the satisfaction of feeling clean.
Because the dirt
And grime
And caked on filth
Isn’t o your skin
Or in your hair
Or on your teeth
But in your heart and soul
And only certain things can even touch to try and remove the filth

I’m not one who speaks of things freely most of the time
About the things that bother me
The things that I feel I can only vlean out a little by talking
And never do
We ll have those thing
Those self made secrets
That no matter what
We want to tell it
But either never can
Or never have the chance to
I don’t care who reads this
Or if you comment on it saying I’ve gone crazy
Or that someone got a hold of me
Your wrong
I got ahold of myself
Like in one of those cartoons, where the character has almost a duplicate, and is shaking them by the shoulders yelling, “what are you thinking! Stop it!”
I had one of those moments….
And this is why

My name is Meghan Reilly Quinn,
I’m nineteen, but have been working for over half my life, just to impress people who are un-impressible. I have scars all over my body, proving that no one notices a silent cry for help. An unspoken cry that something is wrong, I couldn’t fill my hunger with pain, to feel alive, to know that I wasn’t unattached from the world, even if they had detached itself from me. Thought that I could fill my hunger to feel loved, by having multiple partners, to the point when I stopped to think, and it had gotten a red zone of close to 80 people. I hate it, knowing how many people out of that number I never will see or talk to again, how the next day it was like it never happened. Never realizing how I was hurting myself, in the burden of not only do many people not realize the things they do to people growing up, and how it effects them later on, being in at least 3 abusive relationships, I can tell you. Talking behind their back about how they can just leave, is not true. Feeling both loved in return for taking abuse, is not an easy thing to leave. The feeling of ‘this is wrong’ never crosses your mind, you never think of fighting back, in thought that it will just be over soon if you just let it happen. From someone who never respected their body enough to say no, never respected themselves enough to stand up and say don’t do that again, never thinking they were worth enough to ask for help, to proud to stop fighting, when it should have stopped before it even began. To feel like sex was the only forum of love anyone would ever give you, is a horrible feeling, and no matter who you are, will never be true. To say things you don’t want to say, just because you were not strong enough to stand up for who you are, instead of the mask everyone wanted you to wear. Because after you have one mask, its easy to the next thing you know, each person sees a different you, a different mask, but who is to know who is the real you? When it turns out you can easily conform to what ever they need you to be
A sex thing
A shoulder
A secret keeper
A one night stand
A friend
A smoker
A drinker
A dog person
A cat person
A girlie girl
A b***h
A pervert
The list goes on…and on.. of the things we turn into, when we just want to fit in…
But the feeling …the rush when your ‘awesome’ slips away, the glitter vanishes, and you shift again.
Everyone has dirt. A relationship they will never talk about
The miscarrige that “never happened”
The pain we caused someone we loved
The friend we lost
The fight that happened before they died.. that you never apologized for
Those careless mistakes
The rumor that got started
They guy who pretends to have girlfriends, because his parents would disown him if they knew he was gay
The girl who got killed for being lesbian
Those who don’t feel comfortable in their skin and get scorned for wanting to make it feel right
The guys
The girls
The bi’s
The lesbians
The gays
The transsexual
the tattooed 
the pierced 
the painted
the normal
the abnormal
the nuns
EVERYONE has dirt, on themselves
Doesn’t matter what religion
What belief
What higher power
Way or worship
Color or disability or age
Im on a mission to clean myself, not to undo what ive done,But in one way or another, to feel clean again. To not have to have sex to feel loved, to not have to work to feel needed, to not have to over impress people to feel wanted. To be myself around people, no matter how out there I come off to be. I’m stripping off my masks that I made for everyone. 
I was bathed once, and was forgiven. The backfall is that I don’t think I can take the same bath, to be forgiven with as free of a hand as I was then. I’m not saying i will not gain filth. But to shrink the burden of it. Would make anyone feel better, so. Don’t care if no one likes or dislikes this. But I am a dirty person, and I know that there are people who feel dirty. If pig pen can live with it, and be loved even with the soot and dirt, maybe so can we. We just have to let it be known that we know about it.


Sincerely,
Dirty reilly 

Reviews

[wyrd]

How can one review such an honest piece of work. You speak well of pain and loss and dark paths walked in shadowed nights. There is beauty and poetry in such dark nights.
As a piece of poetry, honest but ahh it seems to me you lose the thread. The honest cries pain overwhelm the poetry. In this is poetry taking knife and steady hand trimming til the poetry gives full expression to the cry of truth.