I cried a lot last night.

I had gotten to that point where I wasn't even sure why I was crying anymore, the tears just wouldn't stop coming.

I am so tired.

Shaky. Sad. Scared.

I hope you're happy

It all comes crashing down
my voice disappears
knuckles white
almost crying
I try so hard to forget the
feeling
and the black leather interior
my gaze is frozen
my body
shaking so hard
I feel nothing except that
you're so close to me
make it stop
but I can't, too late
the damage is already done
my heart is racing
I try to put distance between
but it's too late for that, too
the memories overwhelm me
your weight
familiar panic
here we go again
dead little girl at your
fingertips.

You can laugh, it's kind of funny

I pulled into the left turn lane. One car ahead of me on the right was a blue truck. I glanced, then froze. I couldn't forget that car even if I tried. I stared as I sat at that red light. Slowly my shock at seeing it somewhere other than close to my house wore off and I realized that it was him.

I know it was him. No one else would be driving.

I started shaking instantaneously. I haven't stopped since. I don't remember driving home, but I remember almost crying. I remember speeding. I just remember wanting to keep going and get as far away from that fucking blue truck as I could. I can't put into words how I was feeling. I really can't. I can't put into words how I'm feeling right now, either. I can't think.

I'm so fucked up right now. It's kind of funny, how much this fucked me up. No, no it's not at all. I feel like a stupid little girl, terrified of the sight of a car. But I am absolutely terrified. I just want to curl up and cry.

The only thing I'm thankful for right now is that there was a car ahead of me.

I found something new that freaks me out for no apparent reason.

The smell of petroleum jelly.

My hands get extremely dry in the winter, to the point where they bleed. It's awful and downright painful. So sometimes (although rarely, because I don't like the consistency of the stuff) I put vaseline on my hands to keep them from basically disintegrating.

For some reason I find the smell extremely unsettling. It's like it's triggering something in my head but I just don't know what or why.

I'm petrified why.

Thoughts

I trusted you
and it was a fucking mistake
because you betrayed me
my innocence wasn't yours to take.

I can still taste the blood in my mouth
when I bit through my lip
staring into the bright, quiet darkness
ripped into a million little pieces.

Do you feel powerful now?
Killing a little girl
in the front seat of your car?
Burn in hell.

You don't deserve my tears
fear shame humiliation
guilt and degradation
this wreck that I am.

You don't deserve these words
scrawled in hate
these years months days hours minutes seconds
that you've stolen.

Rage is a bittersweet and jagged
little pill in the style of
Alanis Morissette and
Tori Amos now.

You bastard, you made me
feel like this little dead girl
fucking rag doll
little whore.

Old writing about a particular incident. Strikes me just how much they still apply today, right now. Not much has changed since then.

I hear his dogs bark and I feel sick.

Isn't that pathetic? It's not like those dogs ever did anything to me. Hell, I even liked them. Fuck.