a little bit of a resurrection
my life journal: cutmedown








burnt


i wish that these memories would stop haunting me. i wish that i could not remember the pain of having my innocence stolen away from me when i was fifteen years old. i wish that i could forget the ache, the ripping, the pain, the blood and the tears. i wish i could forget two years later when i finally let myself trust again. when i let myself fall in love. i wish i could forget the way that he hurt me. the way that he left me crying outside of his house on the curb in the darkness. i wish i could forget the way that he told me that he prayed that there wasn�t a part of him growing inside of me.

why do they want to hurt me? all of them, one after the next. i know i am not perfect, but i can not understand it. does anyone realize that i am living a nightmare? that before I fall asleep every nite, in the back of my mind there is always a hope, a prayer that I will not wake up the next morning.

and i am sorry if that is selfish, but there is nothing here. can�t you see that? i have been slowly hollowed out overtime. piece by piece, people have emptied me, stolen my love, crushed my heart, stamped out the only fire that was in my soul. i am no more than an empty shell, broken porcelain, shattered glass, falling tears. everything that I could give they took away from me. there is nothing left.

i have nothing left.


written on 2003-06-02 at 9:36 p.m.

she / lost