Apostasy

When piety fails.


I did not lose my religion.
I merely altered my conception.



When the burning and the stinging subsides,
I am left with a humane stigmata.
Not the wounds of Christ.
Not the wounds of a saviour - just those
Of a mortal soul
Perishing.

Perishing - that's a word used to describe rubber.
When it wrinkles and starts to decay.
How can the same word be used to show
The suffrage of the spirit?
Of the body?
Am I just withered rubber?

Human contraception.
I am designated to kill my children, after all.
If what I felt on the inside,
Showed on the outside,
No man would want to touch me.
I'd be rancid and rotten.
And peeling away. Mildewed. Bitter.
I'd be a bitch to raise a child in my image anyway.

Am I made in the image of you God?
Am I still in that image?
Do you look like this?
When something inside you just - twigs.
Sparks. Sets into motion.
When that voice is screaming over and over
until it has to get out, shouting and moaning
over and over and over
"go on now, do it you bitch,
You deserve nothing more. ugly. elephant. do it! Rip,
And watch. I want to see you hurt, you're pathetic, do it- do it
do it now!"
There's more, there's 5 or six, just repeating,
"Don't shy away from me-  just do it! you deserve the scars
you miserable bitch, let it out, get it out - bleed, do it.
You should cut off all your skin - DO IT NOW! don't ignore me.
You hurt your friends. You're ugly as sin - a failure, the worst
person in the world, now slice yourself into little pieces - you
are worth nothing, pathetic, go on now, let me watch"
over and over and over, shouting and screaming until
FINE, I'LL DO IT! JUST GET OUT!
just get out, and leave me.

Help me God, please.
please.


Do you bare the stains of humanity?
Mutilation.
Its the only thing that excites me.
The only thing that my brain agrees with.
"The pain reminds you you're alive" -
That old cliche?
Rings true enough - but only so many times
It can be said and
Besides -
Don't you do it to remove the pain inside?
So you can feel.

It seemed like such a good idea at the time.

Don't throw me out
Don't judge me.
This is my chosen punishment.
God does not prevent me, therefore condones it.
I am proving my worth.

Just old rubber.
No longer holding in the water.
Drink 8 a day. Don't wilt.
Its hot, drink, and eat.
And for God sake stop picking.

I warned you, sat on your bed it would bleed.
And when all those nurses crowded round,
I told them I understood.
They wouldn't let me help. "Not trained".
Well bullshit.
No one who works with people like us babe,
Has ever thought the way we do.
That's just the way it is.
And while they collect their coats.
Go out for a fag, and walk home,
"Home"
We're here.
Because "home" isn't safe enough.

I spent 3 solid days away from home
before I got here.
My parents packed my suitcase, and I loathed
The though that tear soaked hands had
Touched my clothes.
My nurse, she took them away and
Then she let me cry.
I wouldn't cry in front of them.
My clothes in a wardrobe with no rail.
No curtains.
No glass.
No desk, no chair. No shower head.
No window handles.
No curtain rail, no wires.
Shallow sink, narrow toilet.
Covered sockets.
I cannot hang myself, burn myself, cut myself,
drown myself, throw myself out of the window.
I cannot kill myself - as If,
I would give them the satisfaction.

The worst I can get is a paper cut.
Or I could just let the madman kill me.



Escaping to sleep.
waking dreams.
Becoming a zombie. Dreaming about
Bells and buzzers and red lights.
I don't remember what woke me in tears.
No chronology.
Escapology.

Sitting on chair.
Wriggling, tapping my foot.
Fingers writing faster than my brain can keep up.
This is just babble, but why not let it out?
Why not put the real me on the paper
And let you pull me to pieces.
Or find these words butchered elsewhere
By someone who doesn't understand them.


Dark rooms, moving shadows.
Staring wide eyed at the open door which I
Made you shut.
Every noise, every bang is against me.
Everything written is about me.
Everyone is out to get me.
Irrational rationality.
Can't be true, but feels it.

"Hannah, you have a tendency to fear the worst
And believe it"
Show me the better option, and I'll pretend to believe it.
Remove the images of best friend betrayal.
People I have helped who spit on me.
Help me shed my skin.
Replace it with glass
So you can see how I work
And fix the fucking bug in the system.

Sitting with a pen, and realising
10 minutes later I have covered myself with abuse.
NO amount of scrubbing can remove the words.
When it's gone, it's still there.
Burning. Its still inside.
Anything to get the venom out of me.

I have come to believe it.
Call me a cynic, I can tell when you are lying.
While you lie in the gutter of pity.
I still attempt to live.
While something sits inside and eats my innards.
Digesting my esteem. Making me a shell.
While you cannot be bothered.

What if you wake up one day,
And everything really is that bad?

I have wandered from the point.
What was my point?
What is the fucking point?

What, you WANT to point?
You all stare enough.
Shall I stand and strip naked, so you can see them all?
Its not attention seeking you know.
No one wants attention this badly.
Fine go on and snigger.
Make your point about "teenagers" and how pathetic we are.
Because small mindedness isn't pathetic?
Would you say it if you're daughter came home with it?

These marks me nothing to you
And everything to me.
Please, don't start it.
Its a cycle that is so hard to break.
Hating it - loving it.
Stitches and glue attempting to mend me.
Don't just cover up to stop me spewing out.
Stop strapping my flesh in.
Cure the disease inside.
"prevention is better than cure" - you achieve
neither.
Either fix us, or let us go.


Just my mind, spilling over.
The ones that show were unconscious. When the fear
Took over.
The ones that are hidden are so much worse.

The people who are hidden are so much worse.


Where am I going with this thought?
Is this self pity?
Aren't I allowed some?

So horribly frightened.
This is all just too much.
And who do we lean on


And where do we go from here?
No escape in sleep, in dreams, in living,
No life in life anymore.
Just a stale, plain existence.

It'll be night soon, alone again.
Like everyone else.
Beauty in the sunset.
Attempt to sleep to pass the hours
Til day. Passing the hours til night.


Please, don't leave.
I only just got started.
Lost the faith in me. Not God.


What the fuck is wrong with you anyway?
All this bullshit? No one cares.
[I care]
Shut up now.
That's enough for today.



[I have perished. Throw me out.
And replace me.]