A bitter, ruthless woman's tale

The bandages are unwound after years of containment. The bitter stench of rotten flesh surfaces and then the dried and oozing puss secretes. I've come undone. It's a new pain from the old wounds that were never permitted to heal from my containment. I have concealed my own pain by layering more bandages squeezing it tighter to numb it, learning to walk again and now and again even dress it up deceptively to even look appealing. One man has seen me unbound, he saw beneath the pretty patterns and then the bandages, and braced to look at the rotten ones. But I took off the last scrap of flimsy cloth and we both was aghast. For years, this cripple has fooled everyone and even myself that I am the victim, when all along it has been self-inflicted. I crippled myself over and over again.

To achieve beauty, I maimed myself. The fool they are for believing it was beautiful. More the fool I am for believing that is the ideal.

I am so ugly. You just have to look me in the eyes and I fall apart now we both know the truth behind the facade. In a fake paradise I have rejoiced, with paper made to look like trees, and a UV spotlight. Those I have brought into my world have had shades over their eyes, then I sweep over like a cool breeze, straddle the deck-chair and remove their sunglasses. The light behind me silhouettes my outline and for a time it is good. But the bulb blows, the trees have no roots and swept away with a breath and I have brought you into darkness. "What's going on here?" enters your mind but it's not till you strike a match that you catch the first real look at me. You see the mask of a plastered smile where my face should be, the cracks in the painted sky ceiling. You can't figure it out because now I'm thrusting myself on you. Then just as you go to strike the second match, I've run to the exit. Most men sit there in a daze, waiting in darkness for me to return with some explanation, to shed some light. I've gone to get a better made mask and a can of gasoline. The last match you light. the flames blind you, burn you and peal away your flesh, you run to the sea but never reach it, it was never there in the beginning.

It's no wonder I've been so confused looking back at the past. I could never admit the truth to myself. How could I expect someone else to understand it.

How can I ask for love in this way.

The fortress I have defended , the boundaries I have erected, were to attack from behind as well as to defend. For I have known destruction for so long that I know not of any way to overcome obstacles. I am Frankenstein. Everything I know, has come from a source. How can I learn to love from the emotionally disabled. Addicted to love, this is my biggest downfall because my methods are madness for attaining it.