Journal Entries from a Sick Mind

Forest

I was a tree and you tore me apart, leaf by leaf, limb by limb. 

And I thought you were helping me.  I thought you were trying to make me better, and I believed that you would return to me and piece me back together. 

I was blinded by the lies that you whispered softly as you peeled away my bark and left a gentle trail of kisses down my stomach. 

And I let you in.  It was not like you forcibly stole me from myself.  It was not like you inflicted damage upon me without my consent.

I don't blame you for destroying me.  I will take full blame, because I knew that it was going to happen.  I knew that you were going to hurt me beyond repair.  I saw it coming, yet I let you in anyway.

Maybe I thought I deserved to be cut down and chopped into little pieces.  Maybe I thought I deserved to be thrown into the fire and left to burn to ashes.  Maybe I wanted you to watch my ashes burn and then sweep them away like I was nothing. 

I pretended like it didn't hurt as you screamed blasphemous things.  I pretended like it didn't hurt as I fell to the ground.  I let you throw me into the fire.  My tears burned my cheeks as I turned to ashes, and you swept me away like I was nothing. 

And I never was anything, again, because you took all my leaves, limbs, and bark.  All I had left was a trail of deceitful kisses, down my stomach.