aflaminghalo: (Default)
I feel as though theres a black pit under me no matter what I do, it may be covered up most of the time, but its always there threatening.
I don't want to fall, but the pit won't be filled.

Last night when you left, I was scared you were dead.
I haven't had that fear since i was a child.
I saw you reach out to hold me and as you did your arms became bones and your flesh fell away from them like river weed in a current and I couldn't bear to look at your smile.
aflaminghalo: (Default)
I don't see my arms opening anymore..

All I seem to do it pull out my heart.. its quite slippery in there.
aflaminghalo: (Default)
I hold my silver lighter with its pocket-knife attachments and open the cutting utensil. I draw it in a line vertically down my thigh. It is hot and sinks through my flesh as though is it lard. A melted trail runs out of the incision.
The pain is not unpleasant. Everything is so easy and free. All flesh should be so giving.

I take the blade up the dip at the base of my throat. The suprasternal notch.
The skin here is thin and yields easier. I pierce along the bottom edge of it and pull down to just below my breasts. I set the lighter aside.
Using one hand to hold the flesh apart, with the other I reach inside and break through my sternum. It shatters like glass beneath my fingers. I reach through, to my heart, my hand is ribboned on the shards of sternum.

My heart is a sticky tarry mess.In parts it is a gelatinous mass that slides through my grasp, in others is feels as though it is covered in a slick mold fur.
I tug at it, and feel it come free within me. As I pull it out I feel parts of it dislodge from deeper inside my chest and in my throat.
When it is all out I take the glistening dark mess into the kitchen and put it in the sink. I use my lighter to burn it all until it is ashes and a stain on the stainless steel of the bowl. I run the taps until the water runs clear.

With it not clogging my chest I feel much better. Much clearer.
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