Lethal (Wellard Asylum)

by A.L. Maruga

There is no saving us from the darkness that invades our souls.

“Button eyes and crooked toes, she cuts the throat, and nobody knows…”

Fuck that, I want her angry, so angry that shame never touches her again. I need to cut that out of her, inch by inch, with surgical precision, and make her realize that she owes the world nothing. She needs to stop fighting against her nature, and playing the role that society has dictated she should play.

Love me. I want so badly to be loved, and wanted. To finally be accepted somewhere, and stop hiding who I am. All the years of concealment, of masking my feelings, of living by others’ expectations, have weighed me down like a massive boulder tied around my waist, slowly drowning me. Do I love them?

I’m not sure that’s what I feel; it’s more like a tightly woven obsession, one that I no longer want to part with, or make excuses for. They’ve helped release something in me that was a prisoner, and for that, I’ll always be grateful. Hot tears slide down my face as I nod in his direction, trusting that he won’t use my surrender against me.

“Who do you become when you stop pretending?” Am I pretending to be whole? Pretending to be someone who can help the broken, when I’m the one who needs help? I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want to live the way I was always meant to.