Posts tagged ‘walls’
I just posted this today on a website, am reposting it here: Musings on my deep desires romantically and sensually speaking with the right person: I think a relationship which is about trust and intimacy and consensual ly breaking each other’s walls down…and opening up to vulnerability…i want to be touched in a very deep and “sensually violating” way at times. Be taken, taken over, broken down and held
Yet another type of breaking. One which is in a sense destructive but it’s purpose is freedom and “violent rescue”. Which I believe is behind some self destructive acts and things that people often don’t understand. An impulse to destroy what in oneself is causing the torment and perpetual choking of the soul so to speak. Or to destroy the walls and barriers. This is “borderline breaking.” It stands at the threshold, the razor wire…turn one way it’s dangerous, another way, it’s radically freeing. Threshold of destruction and creation, perhaps
She had always been a sensitive person, and when people mistreated her, which happened often, it felt as if she was being torn apart, crushed, and that she became nothing. The fragile tendrils attempting to reach out for sunlight, her desires for affection, respect, and connection with her fellow humans, were constantly thwarted. People made fun of her for who she was, judged her and found her lacking, used her and exploited her, and rejected her when she developed a longing for someone. So, as she grew into an adult after a lifetime of this, having it constantly drilled into her head that there was something wrong with her and that she did not deserve what she wanted and needed most of all, she slowly built a shell to hide inside. To keep the world, and life itself, from touching her. It was a hard shell, she blocked the vulnerability that she had been taught to fear. For a time, it felt like a solution. She felt secure in there, calm and impenetrable, not hurtable.
But before long this security turned to oppression, she felt disconnected from the only thing that made her feel alive, that she desired most of all, because deep down she felt that it wasn’t safe to want it. She felt buried alive, and her obsession became obtaining freedom, at any cost.
All she wanted any more was for the shell to break, to shatter, to be rescued and truly touched, Inside, again.
There’s so much I want to say
In a hard shell
Touching in deep places
When the glass shatters and breaks
We will meet again