Just wanted to say a special thank you to everyone on here who has found “The End” resonates with them. It’s like screaming in an empty room sometimes. I came back to tumblr when it all went down, because I think something special happens here. Like when someone sits at the edge of the couch and through your tears you say “please don’t watch me cry, but please don’t leave either.” This is the quiet space in between screaming observation and lethargic loneliness. It’s shared solitude. The platform gave me everything once upon a time, so many years ago. It felt right to return in my weakest moment. It was here that I could tell small fragmented truths about what I was going through, in my own baroque way. Thanks for keeping my secret until I was ready.
when it rains it pours,
but how big must a puddle grow
before it is considered a pond?
when does a pond become a lake?
i’m drowning,
but i insist that i’m dry.
insist i couldn’t die.
now every single day is overtime.
is extra credit.
is derealized.
i’m drowning but i
wring my clothes
and promise that i’m dry.
it’s good for the flowers, they say.
that’s very good.
you’ll need them soon.
I mean. Yeah. being thrust into this insane world / business at 18 irrevocably altered my brain chemistry. but I gotta say, I wake up everyday and make a coffee and sit with my son while we have breakfast and I think to myself “you made it out relatively unscathed to this point, kid.” and for that I am grateful beyond measure. all it took was the exhaustion of waking up and self evaluating on a microscopic level for the past 5 years (which nearly killed me) BUT. I’m here. And I have kept it pretty much together (best as I can) as of recent. which is more than 18 year old me would have ever given herself the faith to bet on. Growth and pain and peace on the horizon. You got this.
I’ve been on my knees since I was 5.
In the chapel,
in a bedroom,
in an alley late at night.
Always facing an inflated
godlike
version of some guy.
But as a girl you do what you need to survive.
You open wider, take the body.
Thank your father, you’ve been naughty.
2 Hail Marys, 20 lashings.
“I’ve been sent to punish you for daring to exist.
You will never know a love as meaningful as this.”
I’ve memorized
the lines
since I was 10.
From the Bible,
from the playbook,
from the magazines for men.
If you should mess it up, you’ll start again.
But, still, they only want
the women
they condemn.
I think that I’d have too much fun in hell.
With the pagans
and the hedonists
and sapphics there as well.
Purgatory seems the better fit
I can’t stand waiting in the corner,
but I do love being hit.
There’s not a torture you can prescribe
that I wouldn’t find
a way to like.
Every single second I’m alive
I’m sharpening an axe I’d like to grind.
“I was sent to punish you
for the way I was designed.
You will never know a love
that you fear more than mine.”
- “God Fear a Woman” 2023
Perhaps it victimizes me to admit that I am expertly betrayed. Easily taken advantage of. I am not a martyr. I am The Devil’s Professional Advocate. I will put myself in your shoes till my flesh melts with the soles. And in these trappings not made for me, my clumsy and stumbling gait walks me into gaping pits of disillusion. Bear traps set in a forest by those who know I will stop to admire the leaves and search for beetles on their backs who need rescuing. I suppose that I owe my survival to a magic trick I learned (earned?) when I was young:
“Leave your body, and go somewhere else.”
I became such a skilled dis-associator that I split in two. Peel myself straight down the middle like the plastic backing of a bandaid. Astral project into a timeline where I haven’t made whatever grave error in character judgement has landed me in my terrible predicament. I have been asked 100 times what the difference is between Halsey and Ashley and I have never answered honestly. The truth is that I built her, as a child, to protect the tender core that lies beneath. In a confusing chain of events, my maladaptive daydream became my full time reality. My armor can walk and talk and they look just like me. But you can’t hurt us anymore,
Because one of us is not real.
if i can't have love i want power moment house performance
now, if i figure this out
apart from my beating heart; it’s a muscle,
but it's still not strong enough to carry the
weight of the choices i’ve made
i told you i’d ride this out
it’s getting harder every day somehow
i’m bursting out of myself
“It’s getting harder every day somehow” GOD YES
