Rape

At dark night, and I am screaming. Like the woman in Edward Munch's painting. Without a sound. I wonder, what it takes. Slitting wrists? Letting go?
Sobbing I disappear in the bath tub, wrapped in towels, trying to weep myself into sleep. I always had a thing for bath tubs... The only place to hide at home, the only place to go when everything feels so wrong that laying in a bath tub is just the right thing to do. Righter than the rest.
A few eternities later I crawl back into his arms, they feel oh so good. His soul and his eyes, his smile, his love.
Hours later, thousand of miles away I sway back and forth, dancing with the wind, the grass as tall as me. The horses. The eagles. thinking back. It feels like rape in my mind. Like I raped myself, my soul. A violation of my integrity. Of my longing. Of my love. Violence shaking every inch of my body into pieces and shatter of dreams. Of who I were. And who to become. It is time to leave. Not him. But that.
Time to move on. But everything needs to be planned carefully. Like a secret. Read it here.... ;-)))