Potius Mori Quam Foedare

Honor used to be something so deep, so sacred; a blanket against fear, pushing me beyond my set limit, forcing me to go beyond, to run, to escape, to show them all what I could really do.

Where is my honor now?

----- -----

It was my cloak.

A cloak against infamy. A way in which I could protect my own perceived greatness, and sweep under it all of my doubts, fears; the small little things that became bigger and more real during the long sleepless nights.

They were the things I didn't want anyone to see, things I feared to face; things I would like to hide under a rug full to the brim of filth and self-loathing and it couldn't take any more but I just kept pushing and putting and filling and-

And suddenly I can feel it start to slip away, and there is nothing I can do, because my arms are just tired and my body is working against me and the only thing I can do is watch as my cape, my warm red cloak starts to be eaten away by himself, and I realize that I'm naked underneath and I feel so ashamed and there is no way I can cover myself because my arms won't move and my body is numb and I want to stop feeling so ashamed of my nakedness because then they will see, they will all see my true wretched self, the bone and marrow rotting within me by the acid, corrosive feelings of inferiority that accompany me every where I go; that which gives me the drive to overachieve and overcompensate.

Because father left me after mother's death, because his tears for her were false and an insult to her memory. Because from that day on, I promised myself that I would never cry again, not caring about emotions, or scars, leaving me twisted and bent and vulnerable at the bitter end of it all.

And now I see the light, like a new born child thrown against it's will into a world full of despair and hate and Whydidyouleaveme? Wasn'tIgoodenough? Whywon'tyouseeme? Don'tyouwantmetobewithyou? And I just want to run, to hide form the blinding, scorching light that seems to permeate into my very soul, like a stubborn candle moving in to close and I feel it's warmth and suddenly it's and itch I can't scratch and now it's scorching hot, and suddenly without my knowledge I see myself ablaze and OHDEARGOD! IDON'TWANTTOSEE! PLEASEDON'TMAKEMESEE! DON'TMAKEMEREMEBER! DON'TCOMEINSIDEME! LEAVE MEALONE! GETOUTOFMYBRAIN!

And I'm suddenly thinking how amazing it is; how the nearness of it can open up my feelings, make everything shine with a new light. The lights are brighter, the sounds sharper, I can feel my blood as it pumps thru my whole body, my brain...

Come to think of it, it feels a lot like a rush, like something primal and ecstatic and so overbearing and mybodycan'ttakesomuchbliss, mybodycan'ttakesomuchpain, mymindyearnstobefreeoftheselfimposedbondagebutI'mscaredofthetruefreedomIyearsomuch-

And so, I wake up cold and damp and feel like my life is slowly dripping away, like sand on a closed fist I can feel it flowing out, and no matter how hard I clench my fist it will run out and leave me a dry empty husk, a shell of my former shelf, but in the meantime I want to feel, just to make myself believe that I am capable of feeling something else besides that self-loathing and false pride and twisted honor and-

The rush is gone and I go back to pain to normal everyday life, to wake up, do stuff, find a reason to keep on living, to go places, to move forward, take a bath and fall to sleep and realize that I am nothing because I have lost the will to live and My doll won't play with me anymore and I feel just used and spent and tired and I want to walk away and see the blue water and slip into it to feel the warmth of the sun on my (parched dry) skin, and my (sunken) eyes look up and my (shallow) cheeks try to smile and-

But every once in a while something tugs at me; something that feels small and unimportant, but that is there none the less; like a rip in a shirt, or a neck bone itching to be cracked. And just like that it starts to get bigger and bigger, and then it swallows me whole.

And I feel like I've been used, and I've been soiled and whywon'tyoucometowakeup? whydoyouleavemeallalone? whereareyouwhenIneedyouthemost?

And now I realize, I know, that it's better to live without honor, than to die for false pride.

I don't want to die

I DON'T WANT TO DIE

IDON'TWANTTODIEIDON'TWANTTODIEDON'TWANTTODIEIDON'TWANTTODIEIDON'TWANTTODIEIDON'TWANTTODIEIDON'TWANTTODIEiDON'TWANTTODIEIDON'TWANTTODIEIDON'TWANTTODIEIDON'TWANTTODIEIDON'TWANTTODIE IDON'TWANTTODIEIDON'TWANTTODIEIDON'TWANTTODIE-

Please, help me…I don't want to die…

I don't want to leave you...

I don't want you to leave me

Please…