Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Sunday, May 22, 2011


By Wendy Ashlee Coleman

Don’t stop stopping me because I tell you to.
I need time to heal.
Don’t ever take your eyes off me
Cause you know me, and you know I will.
Violate me with your observation
Even though I tell you I don’t want it.
It hurts me so much,
I desperately wish I didn’t have to have it.
I don’t know why my solutions often come in the form of a blade,
One that’s razor to the touch and ready to tame,
Tame a spirit that boils in rage, shame and pain;
A soul who demands blood and craves the sacrifice of its very own flesh;
One that relishes in agony’s grimacing reflection.

I don’t ask my inner demons questions, I just pay them.
So don’t stop stopping me because you think I’ll stop.
Because there’s a reason it’s August and I’m wearing this
November-long sleeve…the one I just bought.

I’m running out of room, baby, I’m running out of spots;
Spots to hide; hide from you, mom and pop.
So, please…don’t stop stopping me or telling me to stop.

God damn it squeeze my wrists tightly and scream at me
Until your windy breath beats my bangs to a pulp.
Do it with anger; do it with heart; do it with concern like you love me
and you desperately really do want me to stop.

I’m doing this for attention.
I’m guilty as charged.
Because I want you all,
undivided and as pure as you are,
because these scars that decorate my skin,
it is my cry and it’s brutal, it’s bloody and it’s proof that I need you
I need you at your all.
I love you and I wish I could call,
call upon a god that answers me and soothes my all
but he doesn’t answer, . . never, ever at all
so fuck him. I’ll just continue to trash my temple
with perhaps something bubbly, something dry and tall.
something in a bottle that always answers, no matter what time I call.
And I’ll top it off with something sharp, something crazy
and something that hurts me on the outside so bad
that it makes my insides distracted and hazy.

And in my blink of peace I’ll get woozy and forget to call.
You’ll rush home so damn angry and tall,
please don’t yell at me, baby, you’re scaring me,
your so damn big and tall,
and I’m just drunk so lay off tonight, please
I’m really sorry that I didn’t call.
You look at my wound; a fresh one, an even slice,
one that looks as bad as it is but I tell you
it’s ok because this one, it hurt nice.
You gasp and cry and I hold your cheeks and tell you I’m fine.
But you’ll know I’m not
and all night you watch me like a hawk.
The next morning I awake in a bright, sober hell,
bandaged like a pro and you’ll be right there.

I think this is it, this is where you leave me.
I was broken before you came.
It’s not your fault if you want to leave but instead
you look at me with pure love and tell me not to worry
because you’ll never ever give up and you’ll never stop stopping me.

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