Candlelit midnights

Same old song

A song inspired by inside out by duster.

Inside out
You are so angry at yourself because you are just as bad as you were before.
You could have figured this out and put it behind you but you didn't and it aches.
It aches for many reasons and you're so mad at yourself for not doing what you wanted to do.
Some people knew what situation you'd find yourself in, really, they knew you'd do it again, and you did.
You used to listen to this song so much and you swore to yourself you wouldn't listen to it and feel the same way but you do.
It's pathetic and even if people won't admit to you that they think so you know it is.
You hate it, you hate it so much you wish you could ring yourself out like a wet rag doll and get it out of you but you can't.
You're the same as you were before, so little has changed and you know that and you hate yourself for it.
You don't want to feel this way anymore and you tried to be different and you wanted to be different but not bad enough.
Maybe you will never want it bad enough, and part of you hopes you'll never want it bad enough.
You don't want to try again because you've failed too many times so you won't say anything and you'll let yourself rot from inside out like you always do.
She asked if it would stick this time and you said it would but you lied and you knew you were lying although at first you didn't think you were.
You are in the same forest you got lost in and it will likely stay that way.
The sameness is killing you because you're still here and you've been here for so long.
You're tired of yourself because you are the person who keeps putting yourself in these same places.

Her
Today you were really low, the type of low that you've grown very accustomed to but still aches in most moments, even the ones that should be good.
You aren't quite sure why but you know it's there and it hurts and you wrote about like it would never end and you knew that wouldn't make it better but it's something.
You couldn't bring yourself to do anything even the things you love to do.
You called her and that changed because you love her.
You love her so much that you'll be trying to put words to it but maybe you never will be able to, likely you never will but you will try.
It doesn't ache when she is around because how could it.
She's like the sun, she brings light to everyone around her and her shine on your skin is a new sort of happiness that should have its own word for how happy it is.
You don't just feel good, you feel whole, you're not high, you don't feel good because of some strange and foreign god forsaken chemical you put into your body you feel good because you're with her.
You still haven't found the words for it.

The sun
Right now things are good, really good, and you know that because you can write happy poems and really mean the words you say.
So much has fallen into place, things make sense now and your little dark age is over, it ended, you don't hurt like you used to.
Even when it hurts because sometimes it will, it's not how it used to be, you're not how you used to be.
You were different before because you thought you'd always be alone and you didn't just think that you meant that, you believed that through and through you were unacceptable, you were not to be seen, but now you think and know differently.
You don't have to hide anything anymore, everything is shined on by the sun and you love it so much that you can't stop writing about it.
What isn't seen isn't hurt but what isn't seen isn't loved and you want to be loved.
You'll send her stupid photos, you won't stop talking about her, you call her even on the days you swore you'd spend alone, you love her, you really love her.

Picking up the pieces
You hate this feeling for more reasons than you can explain.
It feels like the walls are closing in on you because you aren't where you should be right now.
You're so scared you can barely breathe you feel your heartbeat and you hate feeling your heartbeat.
You had the chance to figure it out and make sense of things and you tried but not hard enough and you pushed yourself but not as much as you could have and now it all feels like it's falling apart.
Why did you try and why didn't you last like you should have and like you wanted to?
You don't understand and you almost want to do it to dull it all just a little bit but that's not a good idea.
He's scared for you and you wish he wasn't.
You wish you had been different but you weren't and you won't be.
You wonder how angry he would be if he knew, oh how he would yell if he knew because he was mad before and you've done worse by now.
You are embarrassed because why can't you just make sense of things? Why can't you just do what you know is right for you?
Why can't you keep it from falling apart?
Why do you want it so badly?
You know the answer to that question but you still ask yourself it like you don't know.
You wonder if you'll be another story and you wonder if you'll make it through this and if you even want to pull yourself out of this.
You are so tired of it all.
Your heart is still racing and you have heard this song so many times yet it's so unfamiliar.
You still can't breathe and you can feel your heartbeat in your hands and you won't say it out loud but you will not be able to handle things if this falls apart.
You feel so stupid so stupid because there's so much you could have done differently and you didn't and now you have to pick up the pieces.
You hate picking up the pieces but you're always picking up the pieces.

On what happened
You hate him and what he did because now everything is different than it could have been, now you're different than you could have been.
You still wonder if people would judge you because it wasn't your fault and you know that but you took it.
You learned to take it.
You still can't breathe when you think about it and you think about it a lot.
You hate the faces people make when they find out and you feel disgusting for being like this and still being hurt by this.
You shouldn't think about it anymore and it shouldn't affect you like it does and you really need to get over it because it's in the past and there's no point in dwelling on it.
As much as it isn't you it leaves you aching and scared and you still find yourself being eight years old at the edge of your bed wondering if it would happen tonight, the image is all too familiar.
As much as it isn't a part of who you are, it has tainted you, you will never be the same.
It's disgusting what he did and you know that doesn't mean anything about who you are but it feels like it does, it feels like you are tainted and dirty and rotten work.
You're not but sometimes you live like you are.
You still feel disgusting and scared and like an opened wound or skin rubbed raw.
You are eight years old and scared and confused.
You are so confused because this isn't what love is, this isn't what family is, this isn't what a brother is.
You still can't breathe, you feel his hands around you neck and you're just absolutely terrified.
You can't do it again really you are not capable of handling another sexual assault if it happens again you will die and you know that.
It won't happen again and if it does you will kill yourself because you can't ache like this again.
You are petrified and you still can't breathe and you don't have the words for the terror anymore you never did and you never will but you will keep writing and you won't find them.
You are so confused, you have so many questions and you feel so dirty and raw.
There's not enough air in this room.
You're on your bedroom floor because you stopped sleeping in your bed because that's the bed it happened in and the thought of sleeping in that bed is an awful one that fills you with fear.
You feel his grip tighten around your neck, you can almost see his hands and you certainly can feel them. You feel your heartbeat and you wish you didn't think about it anymore and you wish you weren't scared.
Your breath is loud and heavy and labored, you feel your whole body filled with tension more than you can express with words and you still can't breathe and you're still scared and confused and eight years old.
You don't want to sound like you're feeling bad for yourself, you never really knew what that meant but you knew it was bad and right now you're scared and you're eight years old and confused and you're not really sure what to do anymore or where to go or what to say.
You try to remind yourself that he can't hurt you anymore and that he's not hurting you right now and he doesn't live at this house anymore.
You wonder what your friend's mother would do if she found out and you want people to know but you hate when they do and all that exists at the same time and it's confusing.
You still can't breathe and you wonder what someone would do if they saw you like this and you wish you felt safe but you don't.
You wish someone was here right now to comfort you but you don't want anyone to see you like this.
Your heart hurts and it races and you feel like you're having a heart attack and you hate it so much and you hate him so much.
You still can't breathe but you try not to think about it because strangely that helps.
You wish you could hold something that would make it okay but you can't.
You shaking and jerking and you hope this will help calm you down.
You hope it will put you to sleep and that you'll wake up tomorrow and hurt a less because right now it hurts a lot and you want to be okay.