Wormhole

It is like I am free falling through time and space,

but not by choice.  

It is so easy for the mind to create a shortcut back to the  

unforgettable memories.   

The wormhole to my personal hell.

Flashes...

Flashes...

That is all I get all day long.

I hate you.  

You are the reason no loves me.

You’re fat.

Flashes...

Flashes...

You walking into my room in the middle of the night...

Your tongue going into between my legs.

That rabbit just staring the whole time.

Flashes.  

Flashes.  

Flashes back to my own personal hell.  

Only thing that seems to numb the pain is by talking about it.  

No one wants to hear.  

Then Flashes.  

Digging that carpet cutter into my arm for the first time.  

Blood just pouring out. It looked like I had had turned on the faucet.  

No one noticing the pain that was pulsing threw my body.  

Flashes.

Flashes.

Here comes the trashing in my head.  

The anger no one cares to see.

The thoughts of driving into that 18-wheeler.

Flashes.

Flashes.  

With the anger I hold yet I have so much love to give.

No one seems to want it.

Until then.  

Flashes through my own personal hell it is then.