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lovelybones126
1,046 M Little Steps 2
PathStep 44 Compassion hearts43 Forum posts11 Forum upvotes23 Current upvotes23 Age GroupAdult Last activeMay, 2024 Member sinceFebruary 25, 2015
Recent forum posts
Home of Piece(s)
Family & Caregivers / by lovelybones126
Last post
 June 30th, 2022
...See more Home is unique for everyone, ours was no exception. What kind of night waited for me after school? Would it be a quiet night, with homework, dinner, and TV before bed? It could be an odd occasion, when friends are over and us kids can stay up late- likely not going to school tomorrow. Perhaps, it'll be a short night, because no one remembered it was trash day- and now Mom is mad? Or my favorite. The regular, casual nights that turned into flashing blue and red. Always during dinner, and ALWAYS out of nowhere. It could start out simple, like Dad forgot to switch over the laundry. Then, it's about how Dad works too much, Mom isn't happy, we're in debt. Doors started breaking from being slammed so hard, I started to wonder if it was ever really about the laundry at all. Do you know how many calls it takes for a specific officer to be assigned to your home? It took 5, for us. I was so little at the time. Too small to break up a fight, too big to cry loud enough that it would catch their attention. All I could do was hide in the bathroom, and hope it would all be different when I came out. But then, I got older. Bigger. Louder. Stronger. I thought that maybe, I could make it stop. That I could get in the middle, and it would be enough to make it stop. It wasn't, though. They still hit each other. They still spewed hateful words, and broke vases and slammed doors. Arrest records, concerned phone calls from family, CPS meetings in 3rd grade. Going to the neighbor's house, "I don't know what happened, officer", broken door frames. I'm much older now, my parents separated- happier, at that. But I find that I still hide in the bathroom when voices get louder. I still pretend I'm asleep when someone walks past my door. I know everyone's mood by the pressure of their footsteps. I still don't do well with slamming doors. I ache for the little girl that craves a home of peace; And not this house of pieces.
Itch I'll Never Scratch *tw*
Self-Harm Recovery / by lovelybones126
Last post
 May 29th, 2020
...See more "Reach out for help!" But every stone crumbles beneath my fingers. Days, months- years later; That same itch still lingers. "Oh a cat got ya?" The questions I still receive "I used to hurt myself, but I don't anymore!" Don't worry about me. Barbed wire is the culprit when I'm swimming in the summer sun, But I'll have to tell them when they're older About what I had truly done. I can't quite figure out What part hurts the most. The fact the scars are there? Or that they're fading- I suppose I attached to the idea That if I can still see scars, It must be fine? So why is it, when they fade I want to redraw the line? An ache, beneath my veins. An itch I'll never scratch. I'm as calm as a crashing ocean, just water down my back. So I picked up smoking, As an even trade. Give my lungs instead of blood, An even compensation made. I traded blades for booze, And booze for drugs. But at the end of every night, It was never enough. Lines on the table instead of On my skin. If you're snorting your new habit Did you really even win? "You can't keep doing this to yourself." So they took that away too. They can't understand why you're doing this. How could you do this to you? Now I can't smoke, When I drink it makes it worse. Living like this is empty, Needing a vice is a fucking curse. Now I have aches in my veins, And an itch in my nose. But I can't find a new vice, We know how that goes.
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