A/N: Hey guys, this is something really different…just be aware of that, it's a little dark and though nothing extreme happens it's just different from my other stuff and I thought I should mention that.
She's gasping for air, clutching at the edges but her grip is too weak and the edge too slippery. She's about to fall.
Fall with words that will die with her, with unspoken truths, and emotions never expressed. The things she's kept inside because there's no space for them.
Because while she paves the way with an axe, clearing the way for everyone else, there's no clearing for her. For her story. For her words.
So she just keeps forging forward with cuts on her arms from the foliage in her way, unable to see until she reaches an edge. The edge she slips down.
There's no one to help her and she's spent herself helping them all. There's not much left but words she's never been able to say.
There's a part of her that thinks she should fall, a vindication towards the people who've used her. Who are better off for having met her but left once she's fixed them. An anger, a deep hot spite rises, for all the people who've come to the clearing she's made with gratitude on their faces but never offered to clear the way for her.
She gives everything and they take and take and take and TAKE!
And she's sick of it. So goddamn sick of it. She could go on for hours about it all but even that doesn't matter. There's no one to listen.
Her arms are tired. She could fall. Fall deeper into herself.
No one would even know.
No one would care.
What's she waiting for? The irrational hope that someone will come by, see her, save her? So much time has passed. There's no one. There will never be anyone.
Because she's the one who saves. Saves others, saves herself.
With a strength, she's always known she's had, she climbs up. Muscles burning with the weight of her body, face screwed up in pain.
She can't breathe.
There's a lump in her throat, stopping everything, saliva, air, words.
Every part of her screams in pain and she slumps over the edge, face against the cold hard ground. The tears feel like acid against her skin as she lays there, panting, trying so desperately to simply bring air into her starved lungs.
She can't move.
She feels the weight pushing her further into the ground, as if trying to dig her in. She's not hanging off the edge anymore, just being crushed instead.
Focusing on the breaths she closes her tired eyes. No one will see her. No one will help her. And in the tired haze she sees the pieces of herself shattered around her.
Her hand is rubbed raw and the skin hurts to touch, but she reaches for the pieces.
It takes too long to get one piece and her hand collapses again as a fresh wave of acid reaches her eyes and roll down her cheeks.
Why?
Why is she doing this?
Her hand reaches for another piece, straining to reach it, chipped fingernails clawing the ground.
Who will even care?
Once again, she knows the answer, deep inside of her, as she heaves herself forward to get the last piece. She knows the answer.
It's the same answer as all the other ones.
Her.
She cares about herself.
She saves herself.
She does everything herself.
The anger rises again, boiling now. They can say what they want. They can do what they want.
And with the spite burning inside her, she slowly puts herself back together again. Piece by piece. She will rise.
Broken, she will rise.
A/N: She will rise, she will fix herself, she will get help, she will do it all, but it all starts with her. Deep inside her, the respect she has for herself and the choices she makes to keep going because she values herself.
I know I don't usually write like this, but sometimes that's what needs to come out. For me, writing is the space for my words to go. And if this one feels really visceral, it's because it is. Sometimes you have to be a bit…courageous, write in a way that scares you. And so came this. I almost didn't post it, because it's so different from what I usually write but then I thought that this is my place to post my truth, so if I don't post it here then where will the words go.
There is message here about self-love. Loving and caring for yourself. There are people out there who will help you, never forget that, you're not as alone as this piece makes it out to be. But there will be times where all you have is yourself and even with people around you it's always going to be up to you to make the decision to work towards better.
That level of self-love can be a hard place for some people to get to, and that's okay, take your time. But remember that you are in charge of your decisions and given that you will be with yourself for the rest of your life, it's important to take care of yourself.
This author's note has gone on long enough, so I'll stop it here.
I hope you guys liked this, or I hope it made you feel something. Even if it was uncomfortable, I hope it made you feel in a way that reminds you that you're alive.
Please Review, I genuinely want to hear your thoughts about this.
And as always, thanks for reading, see ya!