...tell me I'm here

[mycursedface]

There are two ways to look at me.

I am my fault.

I am not my fault.
People would say, have said, to me and others that one way lies madness and the other peace, but then they get confused about which is which.

This is my fault; my choices led to this and how I am and my broken mind (you see, it is broken,
shattered like a vase with the pieces of pottery scattered all in the sands and you can cut yourself because pieces and broken don't mean helpless)
and my snakes whom everyone thinks are something other than myself even though they are me, just me, all me, me, me wrought in perfect scaled form and if I let people talk to them it's just easier. My fault, my choices, let me take control and fight it, please, Gaia, just let me take control of my life again instead of letting it
trickle through my fingers like fucking water.

I am not my fault; everything that has happened has been external and nothing to do with me. I am tossed about willy-nilly
a kite in a storm and nothing I can do about
the rips and tears and splintered bones it's not my fault
victim
helpless
pathetic
Nothing to do but open my mouth and scream and wail and cry at the injustice and get pity, pity, poor Medusa
Can't it be both?
Some things my fault; others not, a random choice, I was handy and I was there
but I can pick myself up and toss my head up high and cling onto this thing called life and having blood and a body so I don't let the bastards win at their games and playing with heroes and women are just wives and whores and so I look them in the eye

but that's dangerous, you know. Look someone in the eye and that's where the soul is and
if you look someone in the eye you can
lose
your
self
nonsense, said I, a selfish and headstrong thing who toyed with men's hearts when I was too young to understand.
utter nonsense
patriachical poppycock but then I was cursed and I couldn't, couldn't, couldn't for I would be a murderer except then
I did
he said it's alright, can't kill me and I looked up and
I miss him
I love him
I miss him so much it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair
I was happy
but I knew the dangers and I looked up into his eyes and that's
I wonder if he knows that he could shatter me

before, anyway, I'm shattered already and he couldn't do any damage. Can't. He's a beautiful man, though. Kind and can make me laugh and cheerful and I can snap and snarl and slash and be covered in blood and he'll just grin with me and
ilovehim
Do you want me to talk about being mad? For I am. Do I sound lucid? I don't know. I respond to the world around me but I don't think it's the world that my body moves through. It's dancing trees, sometimes, and being covered with ants until I scream and scream and scream and can't get them off never ever ever and I'm here

and here

and here
and this is me, too.

All me so many until I get confused

Multiple heads for I say 'my snakes' like I say 'my hands' 'my eyes' and the world around me is a complete circle of heat and taste and smell and my eyes don't matter, I shut them and the world is
HERE
and i laugh
do you want to know why?

i decided someday when the sky was deluding himself about being blue

(he's really purple and green, but we mustn't mention it for, uh, he's crazy too old
with his grandchildren raping and killing each other and imprisoning their brothers down into the deepest darkest pit and he's gone mad with the blood his blood have split
ive talked to atlas about it but hes a mountain range now and cant answer back but thats okay
sometimes he scared me even before too big too solid but poor atlas my poor cousin
dont think i didnt cry when the war was lost)

that the only way to win is to laugh

just...laugh.
my pain is the point of this, you see. my agony my insanity and everytime i cry
and everything i shriek
it means that they have won and my sisters have lost

my sisters...

lucifer has my heart
they have the rest of me

I have holes, though you can't see them. I have great bleeding wounds where they have been carved out of me
my sisters
my sisters
sisters means three, you know. It does.
To us.

In our language, everything is three and there are three words for 'sister'.
One means me.
One means Stheno.
One means Euryale.
There are 'sisters' who are two without the third and 'sisters' for all of us together and 'sisters' for the rest of our family who aren't us.
And I have to laugh because my pain punishes them and my insanity is their pain for loving me and bringing me back so I look at this strange, upside-and-all-around world that I've been exiled to, but I can always tell which way is up when I fly, you can't fly upside-down, and I laugh so they know that it's not over
I laugh in defiance

if Prometheus can spend thousands of years screaming and never give our cousin what he wants, then I can laugh.

I have to hide the laugh into a scream, but I'm laughing.
Only.
I need...I need help

I can't do this on my own because sometimes I get confused

Who am I?
Medusa?

I carve my name as I can remember Jamie showing me
I carve into my arm so I remember so I know that I am me and I am here
but then I look and it's just dried blood

So, please. I know you can't talk. You're just a statue.
I'm insane, not stupid.
I know that

but tell me who I am

tell me that I'm here, tell me I'm here in this moment
tell me who I am and tell me I'm here

tell me I'm here