The Books that Never made it

The thorn bush of madness

It’s usually a couple moments after the fight where the anger slowly starts to melt away and everything that you fought to stand up for doesn’t seem important anymore. All the insults and comebacks start to replay in your mind over and over again and your stomach starts to twist.

Should I have said that?

Could I have done better?

Because at this time now, their gone, in another room, probably feeling a ton better than you feel right now.

            Your shoulders slump and you dip you head wondering if it was all worth fighting for. It was just one word, one word that you hang on to for a couple of moments before the self esteem breakers come in.

You’re nothing.

You’re worthless.

You’re scum.

You’ll never be a somebody.

They were right, you were wrong.

If you just disappear everything just will be better.

            The tears start to build up in your eyes and even though you try—try so hard to keep them back, you’re powerless. They just don’t seem to stop. Quickly wiping them away, the breakers in your head get worse. They become crueler and louder, so loud you have no choice but to let them in. You just don’t care anymore. It’s not worth it. You’re not worth it. They’ve won and right now you don’t care. You just want to run, but you can’t. You’re trapped and it’s slowly suffocating you.

            You glance at the glass of water on the table and swallow the mouthful of saliva that you’d been holding in this whole time along with the breathe that’s been trapped inside you. The lump in your throat sets off another wave of tears, making you glance away to the ceiling, hoping they’ll just leave you in peace, but like vultures they crawl down your face in search of dry land.

The food on the plate in front of you that once made you drool with hunger now makes you sick and turn away in disgust. You’re not hungry; instead you listen to the breakers and voices in your head as they tear you down and stab you with emotion that’s too strong to hold back. As you sit, you notice how good the pain feels and fall harder into its thorns that slowly wrap around you and carry you away until you feel nothing at all.