I'm a bump on the roller coaster we call life. Sucked through the multi-colored bendy straw of low self esteem and regret. Given the chance to change anything I'd change the day my mother thought sex with a stranger would fill the void of nothingness in her heart but instead filled her belly with a child that nobody wanted. I've been to so many houses I no longer know what a home is. Each foster family leading me closer and closer to a pill cocktail with a bleach chaser. Every night as children were fast asleep I was wide awake wonder where oh where could I find someone that could love someone as broken as me. I'm like a time bomb, each second ticking away what little sanity I had left and replacing it with what could best be described as monsters, demons even.Demons who lurk and pry and steal away any happiness or joy I have in me. I desire to be normal but long to be loved, a combination as deadly as fire and gasoline that slowly burns down the temple I call my own body. I began to scratch and cut my veins with the last smudge of hope I have that I could let the demons that resided in me out but the more I saw the color Red the more I knew the me that could have a happy ending died a long time ago leaving behind a disgusting meat suit possessed by something equally distasteful. When the scars healed over and the blood ran dry I turned to something that would destroy my body in the best form of self mutilation; drugs. The more I took, the more I felt alive. It was as if the good in me was brought screaming back to life with a defibrillator and i was tasting what dreams, not nightmares, were made of. Eventually the drugs wore off leaving me more aware of my surroundings. I began sleeping with people who called me pretty, or anyone who looked at me for that matter.Because they had the courage to do something even 'i couldn't do and that was staring pure evil in the face. My blood ran cold the day I got my first plus in anything, and that was on a tiny magic wand that told you if you were late on bleeding or early in child development. I snapped the stick in half as if breaking it could change the the fact that I had another me, another horrible being, growing inside me...that I didn't want.
Cycle Repeats.
