Thursday, May 19, 2011

I want to vomit all the bad out of life.

Purge every anxiety, every moment of overwhelming sadness, every betrayal, every disgusting thing I've ever done and seen done, every short-lived depression, every day without affection, every shitty thing they've said about me, every shitty thing I've said about everyone, every time they've touched me, every humoring comment, every text message, every hit of that, every fucked up dirty thought, every sob, every sense of extreme guilt, every shameful act, every thoughtless word, every fight.

I want to take a scalding hot shower and burn it all off of me.

I want to go to the river and throw it all in with a thousand-pound weight attached.

I want to pour gasoline over it and set it on fire.

I want to chop it up and make soup out of it.

I want to wrap it up in garbage bags and send it out to sea.

I want to bury it twelve-thousand feet deep.

I want it out of me and away from me and I want to be able to go more than a day without it rising to the top of my throat and being swallowed back down. I'm metabolizing it, slowly; it's going to run through my veins. It's going to be an inextricable part of me and I'm going to become the shit that I hate.

I want to vomit all the bad out of life.

I want to taste the good again.

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