Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Happy Birthday Asshole

Happy conception day douchebag....ironically it's not only your birthday but the day that our son was conceieved. I remember it well, more than I should. So the day our son was conceived, yep the son you forsook when you has sex with another woman in the apartment we shared you worthless piece of horse manure.

Fuck you for every birthday of mine you have ruined and for everything you did with her that you were unwilling to do with me, fuck you for all of the lies, the pain, the torment, the basic assholish fuckery that I had to deal with for the past ten fuckin years. Fuck you. Fuck you up the ass so hard. I wish you more pain than you can ever fucking imagine.

I was sweet once, not innocent, but sweet. I was happy and pure and unaware of the pain associated with heartbreak. I was like a newly forged clay pot. So fresh. No holes or dents or cracks orscratches. Then you broke my heart and created the biggest fucking crack in my pot...and as much as I cover it with plaster or fill it in, it will never be that clay fucking pot again.

I am forever damaged and all I want to do, all I really want to do, is to keep filling that hole with pieces of your flesh, your blood, with bits of your soul until those holes are bursting at the fucking seams. And I've done that, and that crack seemed to hunger, to yearn, instead of filling it thrives on blood and gore and hate and this lust for blood and flesh and anything else I can tear off your body.

This crack thrived on darkness and madness..the crack didn't fill...it splintered into a million other cracks furthering the damage done to that clay pot.

So here I am, full of cracks, of darkness, and I can't go back to being shiny and new again, nor would I want to. But this claypot is getting very difficult to hold water and be half full. This clay pot doesn't have the capacity it once did. This clay pot isn't wanted by people anymore because it is not beautiful. It sits on the shelf, watching the world pass it by, wanting so desperately to take another trip to the well to become full again.

I will never feel full again.


4 comments:

  1. Japanese artist break pots and repair them with gold varnish in order to make them worth something since to them a new, immaculate pot is worth nothing. It's called kintsugi. I'm sorry you are in so much pain now, but you will feel full again, and you will be more beautiful and that beauty will be appreciated. *hugs*

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  2. I will completely admit that I was drinking while writing this post. Not the best of moves...

    Kimberly thank you. I don't feel this immense level of pain all of the time but when I do it's bad...and I get angry. And I text my ex and tell him that I hope he drowns in a sea of his own vomit....totally said that to my exes mom..glad we are cool and she totally understands her son is a big douche.

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  3. That is how I feel about my sons father. It has been almost 3 years since him and I split up and I have been unable to maintain a healthy relationship since. He was my HS sweetheart and gave me a child and also showed me my first heart break. I wish you the best of luck in finding a way to become whole again.

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  4. There are several people in the world I would enjoy writing a post like this to... but I am sort of afraid that if I do spill my true feelings, and if those ever turn up dead later on, I'll be the prime suspect!!!

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