last night i tried to see my face in the mirror and it was a face i didn't recognise.
i've missed you for so long now that i don't know what it is to not miss you.
remember when you told me i was your southern girl?
Tiny dancer. i lost that too.
Drugs and babies. Late night tears and early morning smiles. try to forget what happened. it's all changed for good. I tried to change again, but how could i when i'd already changed beyond recognition?
Maybe it was the ecstacy, but maybe you'd already died inside. It always made me feel like i could carry on forever, too.
Best friends means you get what you deserve. you didn't deserve that though, baby... you should be here now, not where you are. do you look t me from above and smile down at me? do you think i'm doing the right thing? or do you know how i feel inside and agree that i'm careering out of control. changed beyond recognition. a different person.
i miss you. more than everyone else, for definite.
you changed me, for forever.
you helped me shape myself, gave me the advice that helped me break free, stood by me when i left, when i returned, and when i left again. and then you went. forever. for good. eternity.
miss you.
i don't believe in no being 'me' anymore. i don't believe in being someone to please you. or him.
he never called by the way.
*
i'll never forget laying in that hospital bed and thinking - "shit."
i killed my baby.
the baby i'd wanted for years. as soon as it came along i didn't want it anymore.
another waiting room, another hospital, another operating theatre... death and destruction lay all around and all i could do was soak it up. unable to move. fear. what if my mum finds out. what if HE finds out?
that's what scared me most.
constantly sick to the stomach - i make myself sick, the way i was so shameless, faceless. just another stupid girl to all the others.
i run sometimes, i feel like i'm running away from my past, history. but then i get back hoe and realise it was waiting there for me the whole time. like the day that i cut my arms to ribbons. blood pouring down, like it'd make me better. just an even bigger mess and scars to be explained until i'm blue in the face.
make me better, make me feel like i'm free?
drugs did that for a while, and then helped me lose the best friend i'd ever had. the drugs don't work.
i lie. they do work - i'd do anything for a binge now, just to forget. it's not while i'm on them that gets me down - it's when i come down that it hurts like fuck.
i remember being young, a piss taker - anything i didn't like didn't get me down. i just took the piss. smiling all the time, youth. beautifuo face and beautiful body. unharmed, unscarred by bitter memories of tragedies that happened inside.
i'm in love, i've fallen for a memory of a time gone by.
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