The Scab I Keep Peeling Back



You once wrote me a letter detailing how you no longer wished for us to be together, because you wanted to be with someone more for real. Perhaps you had a point, in fact, I’m quite sure of it. For longer than I care to admit I wanted to win you back by proving I could be that someone, that I could be normal, but as time passed the emotions I held for you faded and I no longer saw myself as damaged or broken but as myself. When I turned to writing, you became a muse to me. Instead of a lover with a wicked tongue you became a ghost I would use to hurt myself with when in need of a piece of writing. I’ve written in the past that artists are self-harmers because we pick away to conjure emotion when feeling numb. We do it to save ourselves from imploding. You are the scab I keep peeling back. And although it makes me feel so dirty, the pain you give is my favourite kind. Those lips of yours for sure are lips I would do anything to kiss again, and yet I won’t, because the older I get, the more I’m drawn to those who know what it’s like to be on the outside, and you my dear still crave so desperately to dance within the circle of life- or whatever life is supposed to consist of according to those who claim to have it all figured out. When I stood back and watched from afar the wreckage of my previous guise, there was nothing I wouldn’t have given to have again joined that dance, but as the years have come and gone I’m not the same. I’ve changed in ways that are both strange and peculiar. I used to be someone, but not someone I ever want to be again. And even though you keep whispering into my ear when I’m curled beneath the covers late at night, I just leave you hanging in visions you always told me to resist.

A Journal for Damned Lovers on

A Journal for Damned Lovers on

18 replies »

  1. It is a scab and I worry if I heal I won’t be able to write. I’m glad you see that you’re not that person any more (I can’t imagine you being that person) and I think I’m one step behind you on this. Gives me hope.

    • I’m glad it gives you hope. People say you should leave stuff behind, but I don’t think we should. You need to embrace your history- not only because it keeps us from becoming numb, but because it’s our truth. I like to think of the past as a weapon- and one that if used correctly, has the ability to destroy dull minds and open up closed hearts x

  2. There is something mesmerizing and irresistible sometimes about opening old wounds, picking these scars of the past. It reminds me of how intensely everything felt, and tasted and looked when I was young. It is oddly exhilarating both in the moment of bleeding and when we let it re-knit for a time in the quieter present.

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