Saturday, 24 November 2012

I can't miss you anymore

I can't miss you anymore, because I can't cry anymore. I can't look at your face everyday, and reminisce on what we had, because it hurts too much to miss you. It hurts to much to wonder whether you miss me too, but now I know you do, and somehow, that hurts even more.
I could never understand why you left me in the cold. I took the leap and you let me fall. I could never understand why you never reached out. I guess I need some closure. Or rather, 'needed' some closure, because now, I can't miss you anymore.

I can't miss you anymore, because your smile for her smile hurts my heart. So, I can't miss you anymore as a remedy to my heartache. I can't miss you anymore, because your jaw has become defined. You are no longer the boy I knew, but rather a man I don't know. So, I can't miss you anymore, because you no longer exist.

I can't miss you anymore because it's become too difficult to hold on. My finger tips ache from holding onto the ledge of the pane I should so long ago have let go of. Yet, I allowed myself to miss you for sometime. I forced myself to focus on the positives so that the pain of missing you didn't seem so intense, but it was loud. So, I can't miss you anymore, because I need to mute the sound.

I can't miss you anymore. I need relief. I can't miss you anymore, honey, I need to breathe. I can't miss you anymore, because you don't exist. I can't miss you anymore, because I'm losing my mind. I just can't miss you anymore, and maybe, at last, I'll be fine. 

Sunday, 18 November 2012

A distant longing

To fit in, one must first belong. To fit in, does not mean to conform.. To fit in, means to be accepted as is. To fit in, is what we all long for.

To fit in, is to be surrounded by individuals who adore you and appreciate your company. To fit in, means to know who to call when the day seems unfruitful. To fit in, means to know with whom you stand when they day is grey.

To fit in, means to feel familiar in the unfamiliar. To fit in, means to voice opinions without fear of judgement, rejection or condemnation. To fit in, means to be yourself with all certainty.

To fit in, means smiles, laughs, tears. To fit in, means high, low, fears. To fit in, means together apart, one heart. To fit in, means nothing separating 5 hearts.

1 heart, my heart. Low. Fears. Tears. Uncertainty. Fearful of judgement. Judged. Opinions silenced; scared to be condemned, denied. Unfamiliar in my familiar. Alone in the dark. Sunny Saturdays in my blanket's shade. No appreciation, no adoration. A longing, a need. But not the usual, nor a conformist.

Belonging. A distant longing. 

Monday, 5 November 2012

Insomnia: One

Everybody needs to stop.
The hurts, the feels, the cries, the lies.
Human demise.
Sinking in ships that we built,
Ask Noah how to stay a float.
God can't be real,
Is he playing his role?
Randomly ranting because insomnia has me in it's grips.
Questioning,
Saying spells from these lips.
Thinking, thoughts.
Rolling, Cops.
But the edge of the cliff
Doesn't look too scary.
Lied to me.
I think I'm ready.
1 foot forward,
I can't step back.
But it's okay
Because I'm dying with no doubts.

Sunday, 4 November 2012

The Day Has Come Where I Have Died

...Everybody thinks they're the only ones hurting. They say words thinking their the only ones hurting. Everybody thinks their the only ones hurting...until someone decides to end it. Until someone decides to die.

The cold dead, cupped by the warmth of the blood dripping from their wrists and puddling beneath the cold white tiled floor. The cold dead, symbolized by the white dress worn to pray for innocence to a God who doesn't give a shit. Perhaps it's something like a parent who kills off their offspring when they're born with a defect. Will the age come where we'll be aware of a fetus' psychological defects so we can kill it before it kills itself? Genetic screening is frowned upon by many societies and many individuals because we cannot fathom the idea of 'killing someone off' because they don't live up to what you want (perhaps they have down-syndrome, genetically carried diseases, etc) but would it not help the 'masses' to kill someone that will eventually kill themself?

Well, I killed the girl in my bed last night. She was lying there, with her eyes wide open because the horror movie playing out in her reality was too distressing and heartbreaking to allow her to shut her black eyes. I hovered over her, watching her mouth quiver and wells of tears build up in the sacs of her eyes. Her pride was holding her back, but when I stroked her shoulder, chills sent down her spine, she let down the sluices and let the dam flow over. I held her, I felt her ache, I felt the black hole where her heart stood. Her life played out, recollections of hidden memories. Vases thrown to walls, "you bitch" yelled out, a little girl curled under her sheets. Tears. Head laying in a puddle of wet sheets. Guilt. Regret. Pain. The overwhelming pain of puncturing her skin. The comfort she felt. Momentarily forgetting the hurt..............................................................................................................................................................................................................

The bed was bleeding. Drip. Drip. Drip, it leaked off the duvet, counting the seconds. The light became brighter. The pain became distant. She smiled before she shut her eyes, savoring the moment. The first instance in which nothing else mattered. Her heart beat faded, her pulse grew slow and her black skin went pale.

I killed the girl in my bed. She's slept alone for the last night. I killed the girl in my bed last night, and the scars on my wrists will forever be a reminder of my glorious deed as I walk these paths identified by my soul. I killed myself in my bed last night, and the happiness is overwhelming.