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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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party!
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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your touch is a ghost to me,
distinct and yet soft
unmistakably wrong
do not try and force your forgiveness from me,
this malice is laced with saliva and evil
why won't you get out of me
i can't forgive you yet
can't bring myself to meet your eyes
from your alleged protection, i spiral
half of what i should appreciate now is a shadow soaked in sweat,
fluid from deeds i wish you could regret
you never carried sympathy in your bag,
never had a heart between your legs,
only greed for what befell mine
tension greedy, arising
the memory, subsiding
you lurk below the surface,
the mirror that i couldn't look away from
watches us
the veins on your hands are constricting my breath
how did you get so deep inside my lungs
i play with my dolls and you steal my breath,
i fabricate heroes to pull me from this mess,
and they aren't real so they never arrive
while i "thrive," hide behind the public eye.
at times i wish i could gouge out your tongue, but what good would that do
you've already compensated with my voice
with my voice
maybe one day i'll learn how to speak again
without feeling your breath fill my throat
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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tw// s*xual assault
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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probably not but ill do it anyway
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Show of hands who finds this relatable
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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yet again i find myself so triggered that i am physically unable to get out of bed😀funsies right
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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literally forgetting my entire childhood, confusing faces and realizing a lot of things mightve happened just below the surface of my brain's protective mechanisms (gaslighting myself and disassociating) but nothing is specific enough to pinpoint so it all makes me sick to my stomach as a collective and i just?? want everything to end???? also i have no idea how to identify my emotions and determine how i'm actually feeling about anything, i can't stand my dad's breath or my grandpa's smell and any bodily fluids and i hate everything so much bye
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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the ACES test is drastically uninclusive in my opinion. even as someone with a high score, there are so many deeply damaging childhood experiences left unaddressed such as COCSA, family working on the frontlines through military and/or law enforcement (not supporting the system, but the parents' lives are at risk daily and that can be one of the most damaging things for children to grow up aware of), sexuality and gender identity struggles, death of a close friend and/or legal guardian, NCCSA, CSEM, and so much other shit that isn't talked about. these things have also been proven to have a negative impact on people's physical health later in life, and therefore should also be options. i know people probably do not rely on aces anymore, and i support said departure from it, though it can be helpful in certain situations.
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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childish lingerie is so triggering to me and yet i simultaneously desire to look pretty underneath my clothes
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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first love / late spring, mitski
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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life is Hell Again and i crave death thank you and that will be all
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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everyone supports people with ptsd until it's "inconvenient," they have severe mental breakdowns in public, it causes them to sleep a lot, they're not a military veteran, they're under 18, they cope through drugs, self-harm, and/or disordered eating, they struggle with disassociative amnesia, they pass on socializing at larger events, they seek compassion and attention, they dislike law enforcement, they assume the worst of everyone they meet, and when their trauma perpetrator is upper-class/walking free/in the family.. the list goes on and motherfucking on, it never ends
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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i blog for the traumatized who fantasize about killing their abusers with their bare hands
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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a mother's love can only extend so far.
it stops at a dismal shore, and gravel slices at small feet.
the comfort of a favorite meal is further out.
the comfort of a warm embrace is further out.
the comfort of a path to healing is much, much further out.
so much so, in fact, that rather than assisting me on my path, a "mother's love" stands in the way.
and so i let myself drift further out to sea,
where memories of being left behind,
of my hair tugged this way,
my arm yanked that way,
when tender wounds colored in red and green and grey
would bloom across my skin,
disgust, distaste, neglect
a torrent of insults,
thinly veiled by a siren's deceptive call
lack of food, lack of care
an intentionally ignorant hand tracing my scars
dirty clothes and sweaty palms and greasy hair,
the choice to mar the child you bore.
i will forever drown beside these memories,
and they will drown with me-
there is no lighthouse for a mother's love
not when she so maliciously continues to stare
and stand in my path.
still, i do not push past her
i do not swim to the shore.
i drown in the emptiness occupying the space in which there should have been connection.
i inhale the scent of my own agony.
i learn to relish the taste of solitude.
i learn to live (and die) alone.
the sun sets, and an adult has been twisted out of my once-adolescent shadow.
the woman is rendered helpless, no longer in control of her child.
she finally steps out of our way,
but it is too late.
both lady and daughter have decayed amidst the crushing expectation of being what cannot be.
being enough.
the sirens cheer.
they eat my corpse alive, feast on the cries for help repressed beneath my jugular
and the hatred growing cold between my ribs.
the last remains of my existence wash up onto shore,
mottled,
but content.
i am content.
for i have been the comfort of a favorite meal.
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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hmmmmmn self-destructive tendencies and violent intrusive thoughts
what does this mean
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solsticeamaris · 2 years
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I WAS MATURE FOR MY AGE BUT I WAS STILL A CHILD!!!
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