And I cried,
standing in the middle of my own bedroom,
until the sobs took over my whole body,
and I lost my voice,
left only with a hoarse sound,
trying to keep my breath.
And as my body lost its strength,
I crunched, down to my knees,
and a moan engulfed me,
filled the lonely room
with my voice, but not mine,
familiar, yet strange,
The sound transformed into a scream
that knocked off the silence,
bounced off the walls,
and tried to escape to the night.
But the windows were shut.
So it echoed back to me,
My scream;
which was mine, yet not mine.
And wrapped itself around me
as I shrank further to the floor.
The solid cold of the cement was inviting,
I wanted more of that cold on me,
more of it to touch my bare skin.
one by one, my hands ripped off the clothes;
my shirts, my bra, my jeans
– I stopped at my panty, was it alright to be completely naked?-
While part by part more skin touched the floor,
my screams had reduced to sighs,
my body, crunched into a ball,
the cold floor soothing me, calming me.
My fingers trace the lines of scars,
long lines that snake my inner thighs,
Hidden, Secretive, Where no one sees.
The lines had grown over the months,
more in number,
more in depth.
My fingers try to smooth down the dry skin of the latest one,
and it comforts me.
My foot flexes, toes spread,
I straighten my legs, one, then the other.
I stretch my body and roll over,
forehead touching the floor.
My nipples grow hard on the cold cement,
a staggering difference to when it’s
squeezed, or pinched, or bit.
My body screams in silence,
wanting to be heard,
No, to be listened to rather.
Just like when my mind, my thoughts, my dreams, my hopes,
all want to be listened to.
Tomorrow, they will be back;
my family, my friends, and the whole world to which I play my role.
Tomorrow, the madness will begin all over again.
But tonight,
the cold cement floor soothes me,
comforts me,
will keep me safe.
Just for tonight.
Musings 