❖ no, don't listen to me, LISTEN! ❖

these terrible things happened to me
stuff i don't want to relive. happenings i know to many that have gone through.
i feel so strongly against the person who did this to me
i can imagine holding him down, pressing my thumbs against his neck,
his face getting sweaty, red, angry, scared
i want him to feel scared. i think he should die
to hear that people like him deserve help, that i shouldn't think he should die, that morality and the concept of "deserving" is made up
oh, i'm sorry i can't be sitting upon the moral throne like you
but these things happened to me
does it make it okay?
it's like they're complacent with my ⚫⚫⚫⚫ it's fence sitting to the degree
you've become the fence


i try to carve him out of my face
when i work on wood with a palm knife or chisel or axe
his face is there. bloodied and pulped
gouged, exsanguinated, getting all over the tool, dark and menstrual
but by carving him out he leaves a scar. a scroom
he leaves behind a fine layer of grime and viscera for me to always remember
what he took from me.


there's a 🕳 where he was. and even in his lack of presence,
he's still there, taking up space where the space resides
i try to find things to fill that hole, thinking that
everytime i overfill it it might finally let him spill out
but it never does.


how dare you expect me to forgive
i can't.


7/22/24 11pm