Bitch

 I'm a slow burn. Smooth. Light and sweet, I wonder, do you taste it? The smokey honey flavor? 

I dreamt. I slept and I dreamt, I sucked in the slow burn, and it churned. The liquid, the sticky, lucidity. It came and it showed me. It showed me YOU. Sick and black and tar. It was YOU, ugly and wicked and turbulent. I didn't want it. I don't want, it. I scream and you are there. You're there. You are there with your ugly black hair and your pony tail and I gag thinking about you sitting there. Then I see our son. and he is sweet. He is blonde. He is sitting in front of you and you are behind him. You look like you are sitting the same, but he is light and you are the darkness. The tar that fills the bathtub and I cannot help, but shudder at the thought of you standing there. Sitting there, just sitting. Like you never... Like you never... Like you never sat there and tried to take me. That you never took me. When I didn't want it. You sit there and act like you are innocent. Like there are times when you can still be. That you play the part. That you can sit there and look at me like our son looks at me with innocence- you're still there and you tell me that you are okay. That you are safe. That you are the light inside our son. You stand behind him. You sit behind him and you look at me straight in the eye. Like it's not almost Christmas. Like it's not almost the time. Like its not the time you rolled over and you tried it. You took me and I didn't want it, but I didn't resist. The time when every cell in my body told you I didn't want it. But, you took it anyways. You said, this is how we can get close again. You took me like you always did. You came at me from behind. You took me that way. I was just laying there. You took me that way and you finished by standing up in front of me. You wanted me to open up, to sit up. To receive you and take you until you were done that way. There was no other way. You needed your routine and over a month of not talking to you hadn't changed a damn thing. That was what you wanted of me. You expected no less. I was not able to give less. You were badgering me. You were telling me I was HORRIBLE, AWFUL. That there was NO ONE who would accept me. How could they? I was an awful person. A terrible, horrible bitch. Everyone thought it, how could you not be????? I stared into our son's eyes and you were behind him, an echo, staring back at me. A horror. A nightmare. A dream that I can never escape. Because no matter how hard I try, you are still sticking yourself inside of me and I cannot do anything but just allow it to happen. To tell myself, This will go away. He will be done soon.I can go about my day soon enough. I can close my eyes and go to sleep and pretend it never happened. I can go to work the next day and look into the eyes of those who had carried me through the trauma and I can just sit there and listen to the judgement in their eyes. I can hear the ridicule. That I am worth more. That I deserve more. The kids do too. That I am a coward, though they would never dare so. That I am the worst. That I deserve what I get, because I chose to just go along with the badgering. The lies. The deceit. The chaos. The torment. That I get what I get.

I dreamt. I slept and I dreamt. I saw you. You were there. You were waiting for me and you picked up right where we left off. You were there. I was too. There was a party. A small get together. We were there and you wanted to talk to me. You looked at me with intent. I wanted. You. Only you. I dream of you. I hadn't dreamt of you in so long. I got a sting. An ache. A pain I hadn't felt in awhile. I thought about you and I stood there. Feeling. Lost.

I felt. 

Lost.

Away.

Far. 

My eyes started to water. I thought of you. Of the dream. And my eyes. They watered. My heart? It fluttered. It was broken. It was pained. I touched it. Involuntarily. Sterile, I reached up and felt that I was still alive. I felt it. I heard it. I felt you there. Like you never left. You were in me and I thought of you. I couldn't UNTHINK you. I was pained. Grief washed over me like I had never felt before. I wasn't sure what to do. So.

I stopped.

I looked up. I saw a sight. It was a wonder. A wondrous sight, had I not been so.

so.

pained....

I looked away quickly. I have many reasons why. Duty. Honor. Love. Conviction. Appreciation, Devotion. I do not know. It's not mine. What is not mine, I cannot want. That is what I NEED to go by. So. I do not know. I do not know. I dunno I dunno I dunno I dunno. 

I can't.

So. I want. And I want him. I blink. It's extra long. I can't help but want him. I think about him. I think, should I fantasize about what I cannot have? I do it anyways. I think about him. I think about what he would have said about him. About what he did probably say about him. It hurts to know what others think. They cannot feel what I feel. They are not a part of the feelings. About how we would look into each other's souls. About how we would talk to each other. How we would let it all out. How we would hug each other and speak to each other and hold each other. How we would be silent. Just appreciate each other. How we would take each other. How the need would quicken. How we would just go from zero to 700 in a blink of an eye. How we would appreciate each other's bodies. I was self conscious. I couldn't see it on the other side. You were too perfect, I thought. I thought you were too perfect to want me. No matter what I did look like. I didn't understand. I didn't understand what it meant for you to act like you appreciated me. To act like you liked me. For me. But, in the end. was it me or you? Did I royally fuck that up?? Or were you too weak to appreciate the real me? Vulnerable, chubby, and me. 

You know. You know. You know. You felt it. You know.

I wonder how long I have to live in limbo hell. Before I feel something real. Before I can see the light again. Before I have another go. I want that. I want that back. I cry and I'm angry. I'm sad and I'm livid. I want what I can't have. I want him. I want to feel him again. I want to smell him and lick every inch of him and know that he is MINE. Not anymore. Never again. That's it! There is nothing left. Nothing for me to go off of. Fuck your dream of a party. Fuck the people there. Where it was. Why there was the imagery. the people in the white house. Blasting with pain. Nostalgia. Grief. 

Smooth like honey. Heavy with mood.