At a very weak point in my life, i was astounded to find a friend who really cared about me. as the story goes on, this friend wore a mask. I hate myself. Sleeping is a horrid state. reluctantly I enter it. In an induced way that is. Then the worst part of every day occurs. I wake. No. I will not commit suicide. Being sexually, mentally, and physically abused brings on the sik need to feel pain. Never thin. Never pretty. Never a social butterfly. The one with the mask clipped my wings. For a long time this person had me convinced that sex was how to pay for my rent and bills. Hating every step to the room where I laid on my belly perfectly still. Had to do my "job". Years passed. This wingless butterfly started to change. So focused I was. Constantly knocked back and floored. Knowledge was my secret attack. No longer would i lay on my belly for 58 seconds. Fell in love and then the love was gone. Still believing the masked one would be the dear friend I thought I had. I tried to seek compassion and understanding. Nothing is what I found. With himself inside of me, anything I said was profound. Mentally I snapped. Loss touch with the world and was alone. Then he turned on me. Blaming the loss of a potential relationship on me. No one would date him with a female roomy. Lies were spread like wi-fi. His family and friends threatened me physically, verbally, and posted horrid things on the web. I had to go is what he said. Well the newly changed me wanted to handle everything civilly. Now I sit in the dark. My face wet with tears. I want to fly. But my wings were clipped. Pain and agony is now. Hope I had once has flown away.Trust in another. A will to live. The fight in me. All are gone now. A wingless butterfly can not take flight.
