A hole in the face fills the void

Its gonna hurt...
Close your eyes, tightly...
Clench ur fists...and hold on to anything, anyone and don't let go until its over.
Is it over yet?
Pain shouldn't come to much of a surprise to me, but it always does...but this time when you plan it, when you make an appointment to get hurt...its not as bad...its better when you expect it.

So from now on ill always expect it.

When he clamps hard on it, know that its only the beginning...the grip follows the burning sensation and agony from stab. He punctures straight through the layers and he leaves you for dead.

Now, that wasn't so bad was it?

But it was.

It is.

He pierced right through...and ill never be the same...

Now im branded, the physical manifestation that ill always be different after him and the hole in my face reminds me that im no longer the same.

After the pain subsides and it stops burning, you become sore and after you can twist and turn metal daggers in the wound..your healed...

But it never closes.

You still have a hole in your face.

But what does this hole remind me??? That post pain, you are never the same but you're still you.

Now this hole in my face shows others who I really am even when I try to hide.

So when they meet me they already know there's something more. They can look right through the hole and see down to my core, the inner most me, the real me. Down to each layer.

STALKING FOR DUMMIES

If you are reading this manual then you have become interested in the art of stalking.
Congratulations on your newly discovered calling.
It will take much dedication and practice to master this art form...but if you are willing to put in the effort and long hours you too can become a master stalker.

Before you begin be sure that you are fully equipped with the tools provided by the kit.
Check to make sure you have everything.
You will need:

1. the hottest casual outfit you own
2. a scarf, glasses and any incognito accessory
3. cell phone
4. pseudo-confidence that hides immense vulnerability
5. ipod
6. PASSION

After securing the check list you are now ready to begin your stalking.

Once you are all dolled up, create a playlist that triggers relationship nostalgia. Select only songs that remind you of the "good old days," of the best days when your relationship was at its prime. Stalking can be a very rewarding hobby if it is done amidst immense positive passion. Stalking becomes a violent, grotesque sport when it is performed amidst pain, betrayal, and heartache. Do not let these dark elements take control of the art form, or it will surely create a black canvas that drowns out the vibrancy of love.

Stalking has a lot of negative connotations attached to it. Do not be discouraged, friend, for these misconceptions and stereotypes will be dismantled with our efforts. You know what type of stalker you are. A righteous one. A benevolent one. A SANE one?

Put your headphones on.

PLAY.

Crank up the music loud enough to still hear your surroundings.

Walk with purpose.

Your speed should suggest you have somewhere important to be, but you are not in a rush.

When you near the location take out your phone and pretend you are texting this imaginary person you are so eager to meet with. Be flirtatious in the way you communicate with the phone, in your body language, the way you connect with your surroundings...

but at all times keep your eyes open and wait.

Wait for an absolution that will never come.

and let it destroy you the way it does time and time again.

the way he always does.

and you'll try to follow these guidelines and fail miserably because there are no guidelines to stalking.

it is the manifestation of passion gone array...

it is strategic chaos.

and you are chaos without him.

When you used to call me mama

"So whatsup mama?"
"Mama"
That's what you called me.
Sin nombre
Nameless.
Don't call me anything, but mama.
Im nobody but mama
Im your mama
And that's everything.

I can hear you now, always, your voice resonating within me...like striking chords, the lamenting strings of my heart.

How could I have ever forgotten what you sound like...
"Mama"

I want to speak your language and hear your vernacular and I want to be deaf and mute unless it's to hear you...

I can hear you now, always, like a somber lullaby and its symphony and cacophony and consonance and dissonance and noise. And its grandeur and its bliss and strikes me dead like a pseuda coma and peace.

"Mama"

And when I hear it im no longer here but there, so far into nostalgia ill never return to wherever we really are. Im mama now and ill never be me. I never want to be me again.

FRAGILE....---->---->DAMAGED GOODS

Carry the package upright.

Please notice the the "FRAGILE" label tapped all around.

Be very very gentle.

And by every means necessary DO NOT, i repeat, DO NOT, drop this package.

But he let me slip

and he let me fall

and i broke.

Now.

Now.

I am damaged goods...

and I'll never love again.

"Ever since you I've been dead inside. I guess that's why I keep trying to go back to you...because I can't feel shit. My heart doesn't work anymore. You fucked me up"

This is what I told the HIM from long ago...the one this blog started with, the reason for the birth of this blog, the one I wrote about and then left behind and the one i pretended to forget about and the one i never stopped thinking about. THE ONE. The one I'll never get over because at least he reminds me I'm still human.

I thought I was healed...that I had finally let go of all the love and the hurt and the everything he was to me...but his absence only makes me think of him more. Returning often to the days when I was human...when I was a woman. I return to those days when my heart was simultaneously filled with so much joy and so much sorrow...but to feel is an amazing thing. I'd rather feel heartache, sincere heartache, than to be tormented by the stoicism my life now exhibits. I've been condemned to a life after love with no love after love.

I feel nothing.

I never feel anything.

And if for some reason my heart skips a beat for someone, in a week my heart stops beating.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

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I FLAT LINE.

But But it is through HIM that I am able to feel again. Only when I think of him, speak to him do all contradicting and ambivalent feelings come flooding all at once. Speaking to him is overwhelming but sometimes I just need to be alive....Sometimes I want to live in his bad romance, in his sick, in his nasty....then to be dead in this reality.

I want revenge! I WANT HIS SWEET REVENGE!

I told him this...I want so bad to hurt him...because hurting him makes me realize that I still love him. That I never stopped loving him. You only hurt the things you love, the things that you are passionate about...the things that hurt you.

This pain follows me wherever I go, making me incapable of feeling for another person the way I felt for him. I can never let go of this pain....It never goes away.

I want to love him until it hurts me....and hurt him until it kills me.

I want...

I need to be alive again...

So if that means allowing him to destroy me to dismantle the emotionless wall....

then....

BREAK ME

BREAK ME

BREAK ME

OVER AND OVER AGAIN