The Voice

One painful memory is all it takes. The pain comes rushing in taking control of my thought; blinding all reason from stopping me. The pain becomes too overwhelming and I can only look for the sharpest object around me. I can’t think about anything else but the relief that comes with the bite. I want it to go away; I want it all to go away!

                Then a single thought comes to mind. A face with tears and a voice saying to stop. I tried to listen, I promise I really did. However, the voice was more convincing and drowned you out so I couldn’t hear anymore. The voice twisted my mind and made me think that I needed it. The voice isn’t someone else; oh no, it’s myself, the part of me that is selfish and wants to get rid of that horrible pain as quick as possible.  Oh god, what have I done?

                What have I done? I now sit waiting for you to come pick up the pieces; waiting for you to yell and scream. Waiting.

                One time you didn’t come back to pick up the pieces. One time you came to tell me good bye and left me even more broken one the floor. So I locked the door to my heart and mind and told myself not to let anyone in. I told myself not to let anyone in, but I kept screaming and yelling at you to come in and fix what you had broken. You slipped inside maybe once or twice but left me even more broken each time.  Then you stopped coming. You stopped coming for three months.

                Then one night, you came back in. You fixed everything and began to gain my trust back. You told me that you loved me.

                And I love you. I’m not going back to that place. I promise.