i`ve always thought that one day, i will reach a certain point in my life, and from then on live in a constant state of contentment, and ultimately die happy. but now i realise how naive i`ve been.
if i search for a turning point, a day when my life suddenly changes,then i will never find it. this internal peace appears haphazardly in single moments; sometimes due to a series of uncaused events, and occasionally from my own doing.
i think i understand now that i cannot find happiness, nor must i wait for it. instead i must embrace it as it passes, like a warm breeze in winter, or a smile from an unlikely stranger, and reflect on it as i look back and watch it fade out of existence. i ought to be comforted by these brief seconds of pure ecstasy, not remorseful as i am left to stand alone in the snow again.
not regretful that i perhaps didn`t make the most of it, but touched that
happiness chose me today.
now, i think i can sleep without interruption. and who knows? maybe, if i`m lucky,i might die happy after all.
Saturday, 25 December 2010
Tuesday, 21 December 2010
i have a second friend ...
i have friend who, despite being a devoted pessimist, shares his rare optimism and caring nature with everyone around him, stranger or companion. he has a pure talent for grasping difficult conecpts and facing new challenges, helped with an endless knowledge of things you wished you knew but didn't. he strives to do his best in everything he does, but is not obsessed with perfection. always honest to the heart, he accepts people for who they are and has no shame in who he is - which are qualities that very few people attain in a lifetime.
Sunday, 19 December 2010
"In the whole of one’s life there are moments of pleasure and pain, ecstasy and joy, and even those rare moments of insight. But none of them compare to the utter peace and comfort that comes from seeing yourself through your beloved’s eyes; through their joy in you. This moment will come when you least expect it, and from it comes a kind of peace so profound that it defies description."
detachment.
boots sink through the thick, inviting canvas
soles are placed beneath, on the
cold, brittle ground
eyes follow every stride
as soon as footstep appears
an indentation on hidden pavement
it fades away
it was never there
nor was i.
i stand, still, across the road,
watching my troubled soul
shuffle slowly through the debris
occasionally, my gaze will lift,
pause in reflection
stare quietly at the subtle beauty
surrounding my insignificance
how wonderful the world is
and yet, it takes so much effort
so many choices
so many moments
to be a part of it.
in an instant, it fades away
it was never there
and nor was i.
soles are placed beneath, on the
cold, brittle ground
eyes follow every stride
as soon as footstep appears
an indentation on hidden pavement
it fades away
it was never there
nor was i.
i stand, still, across the road,
watching my troubled soul
shuffle slowly through the debris
occasionally, my gaze will lift,
pause in reflection
stare quietly at the subtle beauty
surrounding my insignificance
how wonderful the world is
and yet, it takes so much effort
so many choices
so many moments
to be a part of it.
in an instant, it fades away
it was never there
and nor was i.
Tuesday, 14 December 2010
green coat.
deep, seducing eyes.
cold, judgemental, yet with so much capacity to love.
one day.
you push me, right to the edge,
and then you lay your hand on my arm.
to the point of hysterical, its hard to see how
you have no idea who you are.
you don't walk; you strut.
you don't smile; you smirk.
you don't laugh; you sneer.
and yet; people love you for it.
they love you too much.
sharp heels, clicking on the linoleum floor.
how ironic. you fit in because you have to,
but not for long.
you carry a resilient storm
to protect you from the rain, an admired accessory.
its doesn't stop you
from hurling thunder, lightning, hail
at others - tell me, when do you go too far?
we aren't like you.
words hurt, actions wound
like splinters, shards of glass.
or maybe thats just me.
cold, judgemental, yet with so much capacity to love.
one day.
you push me, right to the edge,
and then you lay your hand on my arm.
to the point of hysterical, its hard to see how
you have no idea who you are.
you don't walk; you strut.
you don't smile; you smirk.
you don't laugh; you sneer.
and yet; people love you for it.
they love you too much.
sharp heels, clicking on the linoleum floor.
how ironic. you fit in because you have to,
but not for long.
you carry a resilient storm
to protect you from the rain, an admired accessory.
its doesn't stop you
from hurling thunder, lightning, hail
at others - tell me, when do you go too far?
we aren't like you.
words hurt, actions wound
like splinters, shards of glass.
or maybe thats just me.
Sunday, 12 December 2010
oblivious.
you sit there, alone.
head resting against the window
eyes closed, mouth still.
i stride past, and look up
out of curiosity
and see you there, oblivious.
first i greet you, loudly
i wave my arms, jump around
smile; surely, you'll see me.
yet you stay unmoved,
gently breathing, clouds appearing
on the clear glass.
slightly frustrated, unnerved by your
pale, drowning expression
i can't leave you like this.
rough fists banging against the smooth
my face falls
i need you to see me.
people are staring
but don't you see? i don't care
its just you and me.
finally, softly, i murmur your name.
your eyelids flicker, lips part slightly
then the train moves away
i am left standing
head remains searching for your gaze
a recognition
like you know that i'm still here.
head resting against the window
eyes closed, mouth still.
i stride past, and look up
out of curiosity
and see you there, oblivious.
first i greet you, loudly
i wave my arms, jump around
smile; surely, you'll see me.
yet you stay unmoved,
gently breathing, clouds appearing
on the clear glass.
slightly frustrated, unnerved by your
pale, drowning expression
i can't leave you like this.
rough fists banging against the smooth
my face falls
i need you to see me.
people are staring
but don't you see? i don't care
its just you and me.
finally, softly, i murmur your name.
your eyelids flicker, lips part slightly
then the train moves away
i am left standing
head remains searching for your gaze
a recognition
like you know that i'm still here.
Wednesday, 8 December 2010
painting with feathers.
let me know when my world collapses
i'm just painting with feathers
flying through a world
full of colour and charm
behind me lies a trail
of purple chairs, blue moons
pink feet, red towels
yellow coats, green dresses
orange kisses, black cats
painting with feathers
flying on a neon breeze
let me know when my world collapses
don't burn my copper chains, please.
i'm just painting with feathers
flying through a world
full of colour and charm
behind me lies a trail
of purple chairs, blue moons
pink feet, red towels
yellow coats, green dresses
orange kisses, black cats
painting with feathers
flying on a neon breeze
let me know when my world collapses
don't burn my copper chains, please.
no reason.
i'm tired.
people ask me what's wrong; it bounces off.
do i need to say?
can't you see it in my hollow eyes
hear it in my breaking voice?
i'm sure you know it more than i do.
i cannot answer, for words fail.
chest is heavy, air is thick.
give me the words, speak my mind.
i know this is too much to ask, but
is it more or less than the price
of a shoulder to lean on or
a steady embrace?
one hand after the other,
grasping onto crumbling dirt
slipping through my weak, broken fingers
as i struggle to climb up the side of the molehill.
i am neither falling nor rising.
both seem better options than hanging
in a comatosed state of equilibrium
waiting for something.
people ask me what's wrong; it bounces off.
do i need to say?
can't you see it in my hollow eyes
hear it in my breaking voice?
i'm sure you know it more than i do.
i cannot answer, for words fail.
chest is heavy, air is thick.
give me the words, speak my mind.
i know this is too much to ask, but
is it more or less than the price
of a shoulder to lean on or
a steady embrace?
one hand after the other,
grasping onto crumbling dirt
slipping through my weak, broken fingers
as i struggle to climb up the side of the molehill.
i am neither falling nor rising.
both seem better options than hanging
in a comatosed state of equilibrium
waiting for something.
Friday, 3 December 2010
Sunday, 28 November 2010
Tuesday, 23 November 2010
love affair with the moon.
the moon was low in the sky tonight. i've never seen him like that before ... so huge and beautiful, as if he ruled both land and sky, balancing on the horizon amidst the darkness. i felt completely in awe of him. a silent awe, a respectful sense of .. wow.
i've always had a love affair with the moon. it must be so lonely up there, suspended in space, with only your own thoughts for amusement. he must stare endlessly at us,
watching each night as lights blink on and off,
and eyes close.
he is the end of the day, a peaceful reminder of rest.
a reassuring light when everything turns dark.
he is humble, no match against the overwhelming sun, but he doesn't mind. he sits there -
whole, half, cresent, quiet,
observing.
i feel safe when the moon shines, walking in the his silver rays.
i am protected from what i cannot see beside me.
and this evening, as his usual presence grew,
and maybe expressed a little of his exuberant side as he glowed a perfect gold,
i thanked him for his honesty, his patience. for listening to me from time to time.
for keeping me safe, never failing to be there, even when it appears that he had left,
and a shadow formed in his place.
so, here's to the moon. let me know if you ever need any company.
i've always had a love affair with the moon. it must be so lonely up there, suspended in space, with only your own thoughts for amusement. he must stare endlessly at us,
watching each night as lights blink on and off,
and eyes close.
he is the end of the day, a peaceful reminder of rest.
a reassuring light when everything turns dark.
he is humble, no match against the overwhelming sun, but he doesn't mind. he sits there -
whole, half, cresent, quiet,
observing.
i feel safe when the moon shines, walking in the his silver rays.
i am protected from what i cannot see beside me.
and this evening, as his usual presence grew,
and maybe expressed a little of his exuberant side as he glowed a perfect gold,
i thanked him for his honesty, his patience. for listening to me from time to time.
for keeping me safe, never failing to be there, even when it appears that he had left,
and a shadow formed in his place.
so, here's to the moon. let me know if you ever need any company.
Monday, 22 November 2010
you, the spider, continued.
i twist and turn, struggling against the slow spin of the thin, coarse ropes embedded with your subtle seduction.
you push me, poke me, choke me; one stroke of my spine and your poison paralyses my unsuspecting senses.
then you discard me, throw me aside, and leaving me spinning, sobbing in the dark.
every time i fall for it, my feeble wings trapped beneath the intoxication of false hope.
i know that i should, at every chance, break free from love's lethal clutches.
yet i cannot leave, for your scent and touch are like the release of heroin flooding through my craving bloodstream.
once again, i am tangled in the threads of your dangerous affection, but this time i am a chained prisoner of my own fatal choices.
you push me, poke me, choke me; one stroke of my spine and your poison paralyses my unsuspecting senses.
then you discard me, throw me aside, and leaving me spinning, sobbing in the dark.
every time i fall for it, my feeble wings trapped beneath the intoxication of false hope.
i know that i should, at every chance, break free from love's lethal clutches.
yet i cannot leave, for your scent and touch are like the release of heroin flooding through my craving bloodstream.
once again, i am tangled in the threads of your dangerous affection, but this time i am a chained prisoner of my own fatal choices.
Sunday, 21 November 2010
surrender.
i know who i am, but sometimes it made me sad.
i recognise my reflection in the windows i pass, but sometimes it startled me.
without seeing my appearance staring back from the glass, i can be happy.
she lives in another world, far from my reality.
strength was once the highest thing i valued in myself,
the one thing i yearned to have, just to please the girl trapped in the mirror.
now i understand that my weaknesses form my soul,
not the strengths that undermine my emotions
and gave that girl power to consume my defenceless mind.
i can fall back into space,
and not care if the holes in the net are larger than my fragile body.
it'll catch me when it's ready.
vulnerable and weak as i am,
for now, i think i'll just close my eyes,
and keep falling through the skies
of my small world.
i recognise my reflection in the windows i pass, but sometimes it startled me.
without seeing my appearance staring back from the glass, i can be happy.
she lives in another world, far from my reality.
strength was once the highest thing i valued in myself,
the one thing i yearned to have, just to please the girl trapped in the mirror.
now i understand that my weaknesses form my soul,
not the strengths that undermine my emotions
and gave that girl power to consume my defenceless mind.
i can fall back into space,
and not care if the holes in the net are larger than my fragile body.
it'll catch me when it's ready.
vulnerable and weak as i am,
for now, i think i'll just close my eyes,
and keep falling through the skies
of my small world.
Thursday, 18 November 2010
every time.
round leather ball
flying through the air
i shoot; i fail.
sweat dripping
clothes sticking
i shoot; i fail.
shivering, surrounded by
heavy breath, humid, stale
i shoot; i fail.
spirits sinking
head pounding
i shoot; i fail.
lights fading
people screaming
i shoot; i fail.
perseverance
sneering conscience
i shoot; i fail.
consolations
confrontations
i shoot; i fail.
every time.
flying through the air
i shoot; i fail.
sweat dripping
clothes sticking
i shoot; i fail.
shivering, surrounded by
heavy breath, humid, stale
i shoot; i fail.
spirits sinking
head pounding
i shoot; i fail.
lights fading
people screaming
i shoot; i fail.
perseverance
sneering conscience
i shoot; i fail.
consolations
confrontations
i shoot; i fail.
every time.
Wednesday, 17 November 2010
seconds, minutes, hours.
cold, blank, silent; i try not to falter in front of you. how much things have changed.
i want you to know what's going on in my mind. i want you to see how i'm breaking into pieces inside. but i can't let you through, because i don't want to need you again. despite what i said, you have become like everyone else, stuck behind the dam that prevents me from pouring out my soul.
i can't physically speak. i flick through the usual excuses, realise that they have no effect on your merciless attacks, and just say nothing. bile in my throat, the barricade rises, stopping the flow of words. the flow of tears.
it takes weeks, months, years to build up trust.
only seconds, minutes, hours to knock it down.
i want you to know what's going on in my mind. i want you to see how i'm breaking into pieces inside. but i can't let you through, because i don't want to need you again. despite what i said, you have become like everyone else, stuck behind the dam that prevents me from pouring out my soul.
i can't physically speak. i flick through the usual excuses, realise that they have no effect on your merciless attacks, and just say nothing. bile in my throat, the barricade rises, stopping the flow of words. the flow of tears.
it takes weeks, months, years to build up trust.
only seconds, minutes, hours to knock it down.
Tuesday, 16 November 2010
cutlery draw.
a second of time stops
a gasp escapes
blood spills
bile rises, tears sting
of all the knives to choose from
you know
without knowing
which blades are sharpest
to penetrate my
unsuspecting flesh
backing away
arms reeling
hiding from the pain
nobody has noticed
the intensity of your intimacy
or my cloak of cold humiliation
lock bolted
body slammed against
smooth, wet tile
liquid luck transforming into
preying shadows
cowering, shivering, clutching
my wretched soul
beg for mercy
please
don't let that agony
drag me into bitter darkness again.
a gasp escapes
blood spills
bile rises, tears sting
of all the knives to choose from
you know
without knowing
which blades are sharpest
to penetrate my
unsuspecting flesh
backing away
arms reeling
hiding from the pain
nobody has noticed
the intensity of your intimacy
or my cloak of cold humiliation
lock bolted
body slammed against
smooth, wet tile
liquid luck transforming into
preying shadows
cowering, shivering, clutching
my wretched soul
beg for mercy
please
don't let that agony
drag me into bitter darkness again.
Thursday, 11 November 2010
sleep.
i exchanged last pleasantries and bid quick fair-wells
close the door hastily
i sigh of relief escapes as the wood clicks into place
eager to finish the day.
shredding material as i clambered over
books, bags, forms, papers
earlier discarded on the carpet floor
it might swallow them one day,
i assure myself.
curtains drawn in one swift flick
hiding the light
darkness consumes me
finally, i am exposed.
sliding beneath the warmth
soft skin-to-blue contact
in seconds, i am calm
overwhelmed in tranquillity.
needing to be saved
chest, shoulders, head immersed
knees tucked into body
arms wrapped tightly
foetal; barely human
am i at an end, or
a beginning?
eventually, stillness prevails
thoughts cease, a peaceful
answer dropped like blanket
over my mind
rest has come.
close the door hastily
i sigh of relief escapes as the wood clicks into place
eager to finish the day.
shredding material as i clambered over
books, bags, forms, papers
earlier discarded on the carpet floor
it might swallow them one day,
i assure myself.
curtains drawn in one swift flick
hiding the light
darkness consumes me
finally, i am exposed.
sliding beneath the warmth
soft skin-to-blue contact
in seconds, i am calm
overwhelmed in tranquillity.
needing to be saved
chest, shoulders, head immersed
knees tucked into body
arms wrapped tightly
foetal; barely human
am i at an end, or
a beginning?
eventually, stillness prevails
thoughts cease, a peaceful
answer dropped like blanket
over my mind
rest has come.
Tuesday, 9 November 2010
Sunday, 7 November 2010
you, the spider.
gazing at your work of art:
a spider's web, beautiful,
glistening in the silver light of the subtle lampost, standing alone in a dark street,
so alike the moon rays that we flourish beneath,
almost hidden in the mist.
like a fly, a fool, i've stumbled blindly into your trap again.
doomed i may be, still i admire your perfect creation,
tangled in the threads of your dangerous affection.
a spider's web, beautiful,
glistening in the silver light of the subtle lampost, standing alone in a dark street,
so alike the moon rays that we flourish beneath,
almost hidden in the mist.
like a fly, a fool, i've stumbled blindly into your trap again.
doomed i may be, still i admire your perfect creation,
tangled in the threads of your dangerous affection.
Saturday, 30 October 2010
stranger, continued.
for once, his swift limbs
wouldn't carry her fast enough.
heart pumping frantically
her uncontrollable rage fuelled her spirit
the cold air no longer seared her skin
pure anger turned her blood
hot, burning, scalding
she needed to scream
but she feared her most
buried secrets would leap out
off her tongue and into the
looking girl's ears.
how dare she?
stare with her cruel, judgemental eyes
mocking her, laughing at her
she was the one who should be laughing
she, who kept her emotions safely
away from the scathing world
at she who displayed her inner thoughts
like that of an open book!
tempted to give in
to surrender to the weak human's
misguiding embrace
no, she was stronger
she knew better
liars, cheats, all of them
out for mere personal gain
none of them could she ever trust
just as well that she didn't need their
pathetic, useless help.
his hooves churned up the ground
beneath them
she thrust the reins away from her
spread arms wide
head thrown back
long, deep gulps of air
she could do anything
be anything
be everything
nothing, no-one could stop her
a fool she once was
trusting, caring, believing
now, a fortress
above the ones who had hurt her
untouchable.
unbeatable.
wouldn't carry her fast enough.
heart pumping frantically
her uncontrollable rage fuelled her spirit
the cold air no longer seared her skin
pure anger turned her blood
hot, burning, scalding
she needed to scream
but she feared her most
buried secrets would leap out
off her tongue and into the
looking girl's ears.
how dare she?
stare with her cruel, judgemental eyes
mocking her, laughing at her
she was the one who should be laughing
she, who kept her emotions safely
away from the scathing world
at she who displayed her inner thoughts
like that of an open book!
tempted to give in
to surrender to the weak human's
misguiding embrace
no, she was stronger
she knew better
liars, cheats, all of them
out for mere personal gain
none of them could she ever trust
just as well that she didn't need their
pathetic, useless help.
his hooves churned up the ground
beneath them
she thrust the reins away from her
spread arms wide
head thrown back
long, deep gulps of air
she could do anything
be anything
be everything
nothing, no-one could stop her
a fool she once was
trusting, caring, believing
now, a fortress
above the ones who had hurt her
untouchable.
unbeatable.
stranger.
girl and companion
silhouetted against bleak, open skies
blink
and i would've missed her.
mounted on chestnut-brown horse
pale fingers loosely entwined in
worn, leather reins.
back straight, head high
defensively, lips closed
a brief warning to passers by
come close, she whispers without words
and regret will follow.
yet her eyes spoke differently
defiant and cold though they were
on the rippling surface
deep, simmering green with a
dash of uncertain grey
i glimpsed a lost child
craving warmth
a bleeding heart
compassionate soul
alone, locked behind a glass wall,
still drowning in her past.
realising her thoughts were
unguarded, if only for a single moment
she pulled on the reins,
twisting broad shoulders and
athletic torso, long hair flying
freely in the coarse, biting breeze.
with an obedient sigh, loyal horse
turned and cantered away
across the horizon and down to the
unknown land beyond my sight.
just before she disappeared
one glance, fleeting and desperate
roles suddenly reversed
now she could gaze into my open soul
begging me to reprieve her of the
heavy burden she had carried all her life.
for a second, i felt it
i struggled under the immense weight
the intensity of the pain
i couldn't breathe
nearly forgetting i could refuse
for only her glare manipulated my senses
i threw it back
i couldn't bear it
nor did i want to.
doors slammed shut
keys bent and broken.
she ran
so afraid
ashamed before rejection
escaping confrontation
hiding in the shadows.
still as an empty corpse
i stood there
staring at where she had once been
overwhelmed with a desire to
chase after her, comfort her
be the person she needed me to be.
but i didn't.
what was i thinking?
after all
she was only a stranger to me.
silhouetted against bleak, open skies
blink
and i would've missed her.
mounted on chestnut-brown horse
pale fingers loosely entwined in
worn, leather reins.
back straight, head high
defensively, lips closed
a brief warning to passers by
come close, she whispers without words
and regret will follow.
yet her eyes spoke differently
defiant and cold though they were
on the rippling surface
deep, simmering green with a
dash of uncertain grey
i glimpsed a lost child
craving warmth
a bleeding heart
compassionate soul
alone, locked behind a glass wall,
still drowning in her past.
realising her thoughts were
unguarded, if only for a single moment
she pulled on the reins,
twisting broad shoulders and
athletic torso, long hair flying
freely in the coarse, biting breeze.
with an obedient sigh, loyal horse
turned and cantered away
across the horizon and down to the
unknown land beyond my sight.
just before she disappeared
one glance, fleeting and desperate
roles suddenly reversed
now she could gaze into my open soul
begging me to reprieve her of the
heavy burden she had carried all her life.
for a second, i felt it
i struggled under the immense weight
the intensity of the pain
i couldn't breathe
nearly forgetting i could refuse
for only her glare manipulated my senses
i threw it back
i couldn't bear it
nor did i want to.
doors slammed shut
keys bent and broken.
she ran
so afraid
ashamed before rejection
escaping confrontation
hiding in the shadows.
still as an empty corpse
i stood there
staring at where she had once been
overwhelmed with a desire to
chase after her, comfort her
be the person she needed me to be.
but i didn't.
what was i thinking?
after all
she was only a stranger to me.
Friday, 29 October 2010
control.
she sighed, and the mist parted.
she cocked to her head to one side,
and the landscape tilted, trees and dark
houses with bright windows sliding
into deep, shadowed lakes.
control
was something she couldn't live without
yet never possessed.
it fooled her into thinking
she could do whatever she pleased,
but really
she was a prisoner
of decisions she made
under the influence of others.
never free, forever chained to the mere
concept of power she can
never have.
she cocked to her head to one side,
and the landscape tilted, trees and dark
houses with bright windows sliding
into deep, shadowed lakes.
control
was something she couldn't live without
yet never possessed.
it fooled her into thinking
she could do whatever she pleased,
but really
she was a prisoner
of decisions she made
under the influence of others.
never free, forever chained to the mere
concept of power she can
never have.
green wellies.
dreamer
he called me
as i trudged across pebble and sand
behind him, placing my
smaller feet in his
larger footsteps
both hands thrust in pockets, head bent
down
against the wind
evening sun blinding
beside me
ankles
sliding
in
one-size-too-big-military-green wellies
back to the car
body in one place
thoughts
in another
dazed, cheeks red from
cold breeze biting
contemplating hot vinegar-and-salt
chips
storing memories of one last day
on the beach.
he called me
as i trudged across pebble and sand
behind him, placing my
smaller feet in his
larger footsteps
both hands thrust in pockets, head bent
down
against the wind
evening sun blinding
beside me
ankles
sliding
in
one-size-too-big-military-green wellies
back to the car
body in one place
thoughts
in another
dazed, cheeks red from
cold breeze biting
contemplating hot vinegar-and-salt
chips
storing memories of one last day
on the beach.
hiding.
like a child, she ran to the edge of the world and stopped.
her silent tears flooded down the winding river, that began
at the top of the mountain.
breathing slowed, pulse drawn out,
beating heart exhausted.
collasping to the floor
sharp pieces of slate, smooth surfaces
beneath her bare, bloody feet
she pulled her knees to her chest
and wept.
long, knotted hair flowing
in the breeze that whispered
secrets, lies, stories, desires,
she didn't want to listen, but
she couldn't help herself.
emerald green eyes glistening
raw hands grasping eachother
guarded and mysterious is she
who fears that they can see
right through to her blistered soul.
her silent tears flooded down the winding river, that began
at the top of the mountain.
breathing slowed, pulse drawn out,
beating heart exhausted.
collasping to the floor
sharp pieces of slate, smooth surfaces
beneath her bare, bloody feet
she pulled her knees to her chest
and wept.
long, knotted hair flowing
in the breeze that whispered
secrets, lies, stories, desires,
she didn't want to listen, but
she couldn't help herself.
emerald green eyes glistening
raw hands grasping eachother
guarded and mysterious is she
who fears that they can see
right through to her blistered soul.
Thursday, 21 October 2010
mock.
his piercing screams echoed off the walls, and filled my heads with thoughts so terrible i could hardly contain my own quiet whimpers of fears. i didn't understand. my sticky sheets clung to my body; i felt trapped and restrained. i could see nothing, only think darkness and hot, heavy air that left me gasping for breath surrounded me. i was very alone.
no child should have to hear their father cry. how could i have known that there was nothing to be afraid of when there was no-one there to comfort me?
i tried to remember his gentle smile. the way he used to wrap his strong arms around me in a loving embrace and then throw me up in the air. he would always make me feel like i could fly, yet never fail to be there to catch me. i could faintly smell his soft, musty scent - so comforting, so safe. yet when i tried to recal his hearty laughter, all i could hear were the tormented groans coming from the room next to mine.
as the tears fall silently down my cheeks, i began to see his shrunken frame lying in his bed. it would be how i would always remember him now. translucent skin stretching over his bones, like butter scraped over too much bread. unshaved beard, like pinpricks on his jaw. arms lying by his side, once powerful yet now weak and feeble. his ribs were vivid and protruding, as if the world was starving him of life. nothing my mother fed him could make his stomach grow large and portly again. and his eyes ... they chilled me inside. so sad, so pathetic. he was ashamed of his illness, distressed at the state he was in. for once, my father could do nothing to help me, to help himself. a sense of hopelessness consumed the atmosphere within my home.
my mother was just as lifeless. she cooked, she cleaned, she took me to school and picked me up. she thought i couldn'e hear the emptiness in her voice. in my mind, i imagined her as a robot, completely void of emotion. one night i heard her sobbing, broken. like me, she ws alone, but there was no way i could reach her. i could only stand and gaze through the glass wall of her grief.
i was so scared. my emotions caused me to shake uncontrollably; there was no i could explain them.
anger at my parents for changing, for leaving me.
guilt for my father's condition. was it my fault? had i done something wrong?
that eveing, lying in the dark, i could feel an overwhelming mixture of sadness and frustration, and lack of control of the changes to my once stable family.
as i began to drift off to sleep, the noises in my father's room slowly fading away i saw a sudden flash of blue light up my room. Then another, accompanied by a wailing siren that made my ears bleed. my father immediatly started to shriek in agony, louder than ever before. the front door opened, and i heard footsteps running up the stairs in time with my frantic heartbeat. i began to panic, bile rising in my throat. i struggled to breathe as my father let out one last scream that sliced into my skin.
silence.
it was over.
i curled tightly into a ball beneath my sticky sheets, encased in the unpenetrable darkness, and let the grief flow from me. my father's pain had ended.
but he had been dead to me for a while.
nothing would ever change that.
no child should have to hear their father cry. how could i have known that there was nothing to be afraid of when there was no-one there to comfort me?
i tried to remember his gentle smile. the way he used to wrap his strong arms around me in a loving embrace and then throw me up in the air. he would always make me feel like i could fly, yet never fail to be there to catch me. i could faintly smell his soft, musty scent - so comforting, so safe. yet when i tried to recal his hearty laughter, all i could hear were the tormented groans coming from the room next to mine.
as the tears fall silently down my cheeks, i began to see his shrunken frame lying in his bed. it would be how i would always remember him now. translucent skin stretching over his bones, like butter scraped over too much bread. unshaved beard, like pinpricks on his jaw. arms lying by his side, once powerful yet now weak and feeble. his ribs were vivid and protruding, as if the world was starving him of life. nothing my mother fed him could make his stomach grow large and portly again. and his eyes ... they chilled me inside. so sad, so pathetic. he was ashamed of his illness, distressed at the state he was in. for once, my father could do nothing to help me, to help himself. a sense of hopelessness consumed the atmosphere within my home.
my mother was just as lifeless. she cooked, she cleaned, she took me to school and picked me up. she thought i couldn'e hear the emptiness in her voice. in my mind, i imagined her as a robot, completely void of emotion. one night i heard her sobbing, broken. like me, she ws alone, but there was no way i could reach her. i could only stand and gaze through the glass wall of her grief.
i was so scared. my emotions caused me to shake uncontrollably; there was no i could explain them.
anger at my parents for changing, for leaving me.
guilt for my father's condition. was it my fault? had i done something wrong?
that eveing, lying in the dark, i could feel an overwhelming mixture of sadness and frustration, and lack of control of the changes to my once stable family.
as i began to drift off to sleep, the noises in my father's room slowly fading away i saw a sudden flash of blue light up my room. Then another, accompanied by a wailing siren that made my ears bleed. my father immediatly started to shriek in agony, louder than ever before. the front door opened, and i heard footsteps running up the stairs in time with my frantic heartbeat. i began to panic, bile rising in my throat. i struggled to breathe as my father let out one last scream that sliced into my skin.
silence.
it was over.
i curled tightly into a ball beneath my sticky sheets, encased in the unpenetrable darkness, and let the grief flow from me. my father's pain had ended.
but he had been dead to me for a while.
nothing would ever change that.
Saturday, 9 October 2010
two halves.
i think my heart is breaking.
i can feel it tearing apart, blood dripping,
beating mercilessly.
throught the whole in my chest, i can see the two halves confused, struggling without eachother, only attached by one feeble tendon that restrains them. they are neither together nor fully apart. not prepared, not able to deal with separation. how will they survive alone? how do they even begin to heal?
i can hear the irregular beat in my ears.
you never know how much you depend on something until it has been ripped to pieces inside you.
with every pulse, pain follows.
its your hands that are tearing, twisting, slicing, pulling, burning, peeling, stabbing, drowning, strangling, suffocating, piercing the halves. they're covered in blood.
i hope it stains them. i hope you can only remove it by licking it off with your cowardly tongue, so you have to taste my agony.
go on, taste it. swallow it. feel it sliding down your throat, being absorbed into your own bloodstream. infecting your ridiculous joke of a body.
do you hate it? does it repulse you? make you sick?
i hope to God it does.
get your filthy hands off my heart.
you have no right.
who do you think you are?
how dare you
get out of my sight.
with every pulse, pain follows.
i think my heart is breaking.
it hurts.
i can feel it tearing apart, blood dripping,
beating mercilessly.
throught the whole in my chest, i can see the two halves confused, struggling without eachother, only attached by one feeble tendon that restrains them. they are neither together nor fully apart. not prepared, not able to deal with separation. how will they survive alone? how do they even begin to heal?
i can hear the irregular beat in my ears.
you never know how much you depend on something until it has been ripped to pieces inside you.
with every pulse, pain follows.
its your hands that are tearing, twisting, slicing, pulling, burning, peeling, stabbing, drowning, strangling, suffocating, piercing the halves. they're covered in blood.
i hope it stains them. i hope you can only remove it by licking it off with your cowardly tongue, so you have to taste my agony.
go on, taste it. swallow it. feel it sliding down your throat, being absorbed into your own bloodstream. infecting your ridiculous joke of a body.
do you hate it? does it repulse you? make you sick?
i hope to God it does.
get your filthy hands off my heart.
you have no right.
who do you think you are?
how dare you
get out of my sight.
with every pulse, pain follows.
i think my heart is breaking.
it hurts.
english revision ... yes, really.
my footsteps hit the rotten ground in perfect rhythm with the sound of my own breathing. like a simple composition, two instruments connecting with eachother, conducted by the continuous beat of my heart. the constant drumming song echoing in my empty soul.
i feel nothing. the endorphins shy away; exhaustion has been and gone. i am past the point of stopping. my surroundings bore me; i can barely make out anything in the thick, unpenetrable darkness. even the stars have left me to my thoughts, yet for once in my life i wish they could save me. from what? my goading conscience? memories best forgotten? there's no use wanting to be saved from the past. i cannot hide, i cannot linger; i'm not brave enough to face the truth. which is why i'm running. my actions have consequences, they will never stop chasing me. like the hounds on a bloodthirsty hunt for the weak, lone fox. i have no choice: i must run.
my arms swing with purpose at my sides. my hands are clenched into fists as if tight ropes bound them in restraint. i bite my lip to numb the pain, resulting in the metallic taste of blood dripping onto my tongue. i fiercly fight back the tears: blink, gulp, blink, gulp. crying is useless, for it simply slows me down. i must keep going. only death can catch me now.
i feel nothing. the endorphins shy away; exhaustion has been and gone. i am past the point of stopping. my surroundings bore me; i can barely make out anything in the thick, unpenetrable darkness. even the stars have left me to my thoughts, yet for once in my life i wish they could save me. from what? my goading conscience? memories best forgotten? there's no use wanting to be saved from the past. i cannot hide, i cannot linger; i'm not brave enough to face the truth. which is why i'm running. my actions have consequences, they will never stop chasing me. like the hounds on a bloodthirsty hunt for the weak, lone fox. i have no choice: i must run.
my arms swing with purpose at my sides. my hands are clenched into fists as if tight ropes bound them in restraint. i bite my lip to numb the pain, resulting in the metallic taste of blood dripping onto my tongue. i fiercly fight back the tears: blink, gulp, blink, gulp. crying is useless, for it simply slows me down. i must keep going. only death can catch me now.
Friday, 8 October 2010
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
expectations.
you expect me to do that? really? who do you think i am?
hold on.
you don't expect me to that for you? of course i would. do you know nothing about me at all?
sometimes i notice that i live my life around other people's expectations of me.
whether thats the expectations they actually place on me, or the ones that i fabricate in my particularly paranoid mind.
they can be whispers, they can be chains. they can drive you to success, or push you further and further into the bitter-tasting ground. so controlling, so manipulative. they've reduced me to tears, caving in on myself, knocking me off my feet. what do i do?
occasionally, i do it so much that i begin to lose sight of myself. of who i really am. i become numb. i will only answer to the people who are most influential and manipulative, and not to myself. i stop trusting myself, my instincts, my ability to act spontaneously without concern for the consequences. don't get me wrong, consequences are more than important. but really? to constantly think about the ifs and buts of life ALL THE TIME just drag you down. trust me. thats not living, thats called waiting.
i don't know what you expect me to say. and for once, i don't care if i'm saying the predictable thing.
putting myself second comes naturally to me. im not proud of it, but its who i am.
this time though, i just can't do it.
i don't have the energy to be that strong. to pretend that well.
and i hope you don't expect me to apologise, because im not going to.
hold on.
you don't expect me to that for you? of course i would. do you know nothing about me at all?
sometimes i notice that i live my life around other people's expectations of me.
whether thats the expectations they actually place on me, or the ones that i fabricate in my particularly paranoid mind.
they can be whispers, they can be chains. they can drive you to success, or push you further and further into the bitter-tasting ground. so controlling, so manipulative. they've reduced me to tears, caving in on myself, knocking me off my feet. what do i do?
occasionally, i do it so much that i begin to lose sight of myself. of who i really am. i become numb. i will only answer to the people who are most influential and manipulative, and not to myself. i stop trusting myself, my instincts, my ability to act spontaneously without concern for the consequences. don't get me wrong, consequences are more than important. but really? to constantly think about the ifs and buts of life ALL THE TIME just drag you down. trust me. thats not living, thats called waiting.
i don't know what you expect me to say. and for once, i don't care if i'm saying the predictable thing.
putting myself second comes naturally to me. im not proud of it, but its who i am.
this time though, i just can't do it.
i don't have the energy to be that strong. to pretend that well.
and i hope you don't expect me to apologise, because im not going to.
Sunday, 3 October 2010
leona ...
so what if it hurts me?
so what if i break down?
so what if this world just throws me off the edge
my feet run out off ground?
i've got to find my place
i want to hear my sound
dont care about all the pain inside of me
because im just trying to be happy.
so what if i break down?
so what if this world just throws me off the edge
my feet run out off ground?
i've got to find my place
i want to hear my sound
dont care about all the pain inside of me
because im just trying to be happy.
Saturday, 2 October 2010
one whole year.
exactly a year gone by.
what do i feel?
regret?
anger?
remorse?
contentment?
peace?
tired.
ive waited for as long as i can
for what i wanted.
and now it is time to stop.
i have a friend
who would wait without fail until death
or some other desire consumed her
for the one she loved.
but thats not me.
because i have tasted my dream
was it worth it?
maybe i'll never know.
now, it is time to say
goodnight.
what do i feel?
regret?
anger?
remorse?
contentment?
peace?
tired.
ive waited for as long as i can
for what i wanted.
and now it is time to stop.
i have a friend
who would wait without fail until death
or some other desire consumed her
for the one she loved.
but thats not me.
because i have tasted my dream
was it worth it?
maybe i'll never know.
now, it is time to say
goodnight.
certain films have an effect on me sometimes.
a man and his son are running for a bus. they're broke and desperate; they can't bare to spend another night sleeping in a locked public toilet. if they miss this bus, the chance for a safe place to rest tonite will be gone.
the bus is about to leave. the man takes his six-year old son's hand and begins to yell in order to get the driver's attention. amidst the panic, the confused little boy drops his only possesion: a Captain America action figure. this toy is his one friend in the world. it reminds him of the home and the mother he used to have. besides his father, the toy is the only thing he trusts.
he pulls at his father's grasp and cries out, terrified of leaving his friend behind. however the bus is pulling away, and ignoring his son's protests, resorts to dragging him across the road. just in time, the driver sees them and opens the rusty doors. the man sighs with immense relief as the thought of the night in a secure place to stay comes back into focus. yet when he looks down at his son, he sees fresh, silent tears running down his cheeks.
following the boy's hopeless gaze, and outstretched hand, he spots a familiar action figure lying on its side in the road, abandoned. so quiet in his despair, the boy takes his father's hand and sobs into the sleeve of his suit. he understands why he had to leave his friend behind, but he can't help grieving. the boy will never seen his toy again.
how could something so precious be left behind and never returned to? why do the most devasting occurences usually happen in a matter of a seconds? such an impact deserves more time; even the little things like leaving a beloved toy lying in the road.
it makes me want to claw my stomach out.
the bus is about to leave. the man takes his six-year old son's hand and begins to yell in order to get the driver's attention. amidst the panic, the confused little boy drops his only possesion: a Captain America action figure. this toy is his one friend in the world. it reminds him of the home and the mother he used to have. besides his father, the toy is the only thing he trusts.
he pulls at his father's grasp and cries out, terrified of leaving his friend behind. however the bus is pulling away, and ignoring his son's protests, resorts to dragging him across the road. just in time, the driver sees them and opens the rusty doors. the man sighs with immense relief as the thought of the night in a secure place to stay comes back into focus. yet when he looks down at his son, he sees fresh, silent tears running down his cheeks.
following the boy's hopeless gaze, and outstretched hand, he spots a familiar action figure lying on its side in the road, abandoned. so quiet in his despair, the boy takes his father's hand and sobs into the sleeve of his suit. he understands why he had to leave his friend behind, but he can't help grieving. the boy will never seen his toy again.
how could something so precious be left behind and never returned to? why do the most devasting occurences usually happen in a matter of a seconds? such an impact deserves more time; even the little things like leaving a beloved toy lying in the road.
it makes me want to claw my stomach out.
Monday, 27 September 2010
life taught me how to die.
a single sentence. a line in a song, falling from the lips of an irish boy strumming on a borrowed guitar. his admirers, hanging on his every word, every note, eager for more. he knows he has charm, he knows with a single wink he can have them begging for his attention, addicted in seconds. and he knows he can have his fun, give them the time of their lives, then leave a trail of destruction and despair in his wake. he doesn't care. all he wants is entertainment, a good time, and no-one will deny him what he does best.
i've seen it before. i see it all the time. it makes me so ... sad. am i the only one who sees? can i do nothing to stop it? why does no-one else do anything? why do they get away with it every time? why is it so accepted?
why?
dancing in circles, wheels spinning, arms flying, voices screaming.
i look up to the ceiling. lights, people, music reflected in the glass against the dark sky. chaos surrounds me, the pain is flooding through my veins, i can't breathe. and yet, i am calm inside. the six words suddenly spring to mind, for reasons im unsure of, and they won't disappear. they're etched on the walls of my mind. i've been waiting for them. in so many ways, they make sense, but every time i grasp a meaning that i can relate to, its slips away.
the lake. the wheels. the friendships. the unforgettable moments that make life worth living. an escape for a weekend was all i had to do, all i needed to find the right words and find myself again.
but you can't escape everything.
the irish boy never sleeps, and neither does his guitar.
i've seen it before. i see it all the time. it makes me so ... sad. am i the only one who sees? can i do nothing to stop it? why does no-one else do anything? why do they get away with it every time? why is it so accepted?
why?
dancing in circles, wheels spinning, arms flying, voices screaming.
i look up to the ceiling. lights, people, music reflected in the glass against the dark sky. chaos surrounds me, the pain is flooding through my veins, i can't breathe. and yet, i am calm inside. the six words suddenly spring to mind, for reasons im unsure of, and they won't disappear. they're etched on the walls of my mind. i've been waiting for them. in so many ways, they make sense, but every time i grasp a meaning that i can relate to, its slips away.
the lake. the wheels. the friendships. the unforgettable moments that make life worth living. an escape for a weekend was all i had to do, all i needed to find the right words and find myself again.
but you can't escape everything.
the irish boy never sleeps, and neither does his guitar.
Wednesday, 22 September 2010
a tangible link.
i never quite remember how beautiful it is here until i'm actually sitting with the single tree behind me and the vast expanse of field stretching out before me. the thick mist that shielded the trees in the distance is slowly clearing, leaving behind a layer of glistening dew on the tips of the grass. usually you can lie on the ground and be hidden from sight amongst the tall stems that brush your fingertips as you walk, but the grass has been cut.
i am exposed.
a feeling that i'm having to become accustomed to.
the sky is a clear blue above me, as it always is, with clouds circling around this point like the eye of a storm. there's something so precious about this place. a piece of pure serenity within the chaos of everyday routine. i'm reminded of this only by the sound of traffic just over the hill. but i can't see it; therefore it doesn't matter here.
time seems to stop still. its almost enough to forget why i came here.
i don't think i've ever come here to deal with things, simply to escape them for a while. maybe i should. instead, i prefer to dwell on memories. back then, when i first laid on eyes on the beauty of this place, everything was just so ... innocent. would i want to return to my past? a few hours ago i would've answered without hesitation, but now i'm not so sure.
the mist has completely disappeared now. colours are suddenly defined. the sunlight is finally streaming through, casting shadows across the ground.
the pain never fully goes here. however the calming atmosphere does its best to soothe the agony to a dull ache. i can breathe here.
the cool breeze slows down the pace of life that i have no control over. in an instant i can be transported to my swing, my haven.
the only way i can describe this field: it is the only accessible alternative i have to make up for the one place i truly feel safe. i sometimes forget that my swing is a real destination; waiting for me to return properly instead of flitting to and fro in my dreams. in a sense, this field is my only tangible link, reminding me that that there is such a place that i can call mine.
i don't like to think that i need someone here, but occasionally it doesn't feel quite right without a certain presence next to me. i can remember clearly the last time we were here, in this exact spot. if i had to name one, the best day of my life so far. nothing went wrong, no-one could touch us. i'd never been happier, more content. even as we left, arms wrapped around me, we stopped every so often and looked back at the setting amber sun. no-one could touch us.
i wonder if she remembers it like i do. i wonder if she even remembers at all.
although this place is beautiful, it is the memories that make it so precious.
but are memories really worth hanging on to? do we have a choice?
i am exposed.
a feeling that i'm having to become accustomed to.
the sky is a clear blue above me, as it always is, with clouds circling around this point like the eye of a storm. there's something so precious about this place. a piece of pure serenity within the chaos of everyday routine. i'm reminded of this only by the sound of traffic just over the hill. but i can't see it; therefore it doesn't matter here.
time seems to stop still. its almost enough to forget why i came here.
i don't think i've ever come here to deal with things, simply to escape them for a while. maybe i should. instead, i prefer to dwell on memories. back then, when i first laid on eyes on the beauty of this place, everything was just so ... innocent. would i want to return to my past? a few hours ago i would've answered without hesitation, but now i'm not so sure.
the mist has completely disappeared now. colours are suddenly defined. the sunlight is finally streaming through, casting shadows across the ground.
the pain never fully goes here. however the calming atmosphere does its best to soothe the agony to a dull ache. i can breathe here.
the cool breeze slows down the pace of life that i have no control over. in an instant i can be transported to my swing, my haven.
the only way i can describe this field: it is the only accessible alternative i have to make up for the one place i truly feel safe. i sometimes forget that my swing is a real destination; waiting for me to return properly instead of flitting to and fro in my dreams. in a sense, this field is my only tangible link, reminding me that that there is such a place that i can call mine.
i don't like to think that i need someone here, but occasionally it doesn't feel quite right without a certain presence next to me. i can remember clearly the last time we were here, in this exact spot. if i had to name one, the best day of my life so far. nothing went wrong, no-one could touch us. i'd never been happier, more content. even as we left, arms wrapped around me, we stopped every so often and looked back at the setting amber sun. no-one could touch us.
i wonder if she remembers it like i do. i wonder if she even remembers at all.
although this place is beautiful, it is the memories that make it so precious.
but are memories really worth hanging on to? do we have a choice?
Monday, 20 September 2010
blameless.
when did a casual embrace at the end of the day
become a shove in the chest down a flight of stairs?
i must've missed it when everything changed.
my movements, my life, all measured by the intensity of pain.
no-one is to blame, but who can blame me for wanting to know the source of my agony?
something is trying to break free inside me
i'm hiding from someone, to my cost
i'm denying the world my true identity
maybe He's attempting to talk to me
my heart is being crushed continuously with every disappointment
i'm trapped within myself, against my will
lost in a circumstance i don't understand
afraid of what my world will think
a shield from the worst
an influence from others
an escape
a cage
a punishment for my many sins
a beating bass rhythm resisting the melody
a raging, internal fire
a thirst never quenched
lungs bursting, sides splitting
yet the race has many miles to go
lying in a ditch, the cold air piercing my skin
bite marks, deep and bloody, sinking through muscle and bone
a constant echo in my head, again and again and again and again and again
i just wish i knew what it was.
become a shove in the chest down a flight of stairs?
i must've missed it when everything changed.
my movements, my life, all measured by the intensity of pain.
no-one is to blame, but who can blame me for wanting to know the source of my agony?
something is trying to break free inside me
i'm hiding from someone, to my cost
i'm denying the world my true identity
maybe He's attempting to talk to me
my heart is being crushed continuously with every disappointment
i'm trapped within myself, against my will
lost in a circumstance i don't understand
afraid of what my world will think
a shield from the worst
an influence from others
an escape
a cage
a punishment for my many sins
a beating bass rhythm resisting the melody
a raging, internal fire
a thirst never quenched
lungs bursting, sides splitting
yet the race has many miles to go
lying in a ditch, the cold air piercing my skin
bite marks, deep and bloody, sinking through muscle and bone
a constant echo in my head, again and again and again and again and again
i just wish i knew what it was.
Sunday, 19 September 2010
florence ...
if you could only see
the beast you made of me
i held in
but now it seems you set it running free
screaming in the dark
i howl when we're apart
drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart
my fingers claw your skin
try to tear my way in
you are the moon that breaks at night for when i have to
howl ...
now there's no holding back
i'm making to attack
my blood is stinging with your voice
i want to pour it all
the saints can't help me now
the ropes have been unbound
i hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground
like some child possesed
the beast howls in my veins
i want to find you, tear out all your tenderness
howl ...
be careful of the curse
that falls on young lovers
start so soft and sweet
then turns them to hunters
hunters
hunted
the fabric of your flesh
pure as a wedding dress
until i wrap myself inside your arms i cannot rest
the saints can't help me now
the ropes have been unbound
i hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground.
the beast you made of me
i held in
but now it seems you set it running free
screaming in the dark
i howl when we're apart
drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart
my fingers claw your skin
try to tear my way in
you are the moon that breaks at night for when i have to
howl ...
now there's no holding back
i'm making to attack
my blood is stinging with your voice
i want to pour it all
the saints can't help me now
the ropes have been unbound
i hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground
like some child possesed
the beast howls in my veins
i want to find you, tear out all your tenderness
howl ...
be careful of the curse
that falls on young lovers
start so soft and sweet
then turns them to hunters
hunters
hunted
the fabric of your flesh
pure as a wedding dress
until i wrap myself inside your arms i cannot rest
the saints can't help me now
the ropes have been unbound
i hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground.
shattered glass.
i cried. for the first time that i can remember, i cried.
i cried my fucking heart out.
bleeding emotion, until completely void of feelings and senses failed me. the immense pain in my chest was too much, and i couldn't control it anymore. it had taken me hours to discover that the fear of falling was greater than the fear of hitting the bottom.
i didn't expect it to hurt that much. it didn't make me feel better afterwards like she said it would. i came so close to allowing real blood to entwine with tears, it felt like the blade was already slicing through skin before i'd picked the handle up. i can still feel it now. but once again, like many times before, she stopped me. for a moment, i hated her for her power over me. i wanted her to let go, needed her to let me feel something. a sick desire to accomplish something on my own, without influence from other people. people who know nothing.
do you know how scary it is? how afraid i was? completely alone in the dim evening light, clutching at my hood; shaking, blind and unable to breathe. i wasn't expecting that either.
i find it ironic that i was saved by a man. he only called me for a chat - i didn't prompt him. and i didn't tell him about the state i was in. pretending is second nature. who needs to know? its not like im the only one. maybe he'll never know how much i owe him. just one thankyou when he had to go; i didn't explain why and he never asked. i think he knew not to, and that is a gift in itself.
the pain is still there. the lock has been broken, the frosted glass wall shattered to pieces before me. once they start, they won't stop. i find it strange that the key to lock was merely putting myself in someone else's circumstances. empathy. finally, i understood something. i cried for her, and i cried for me.
i cried my fucking heart out.
bleeding emotion, until completely void of feelings and senses failed me. the immense pain in my chest was too much, and i couldn't control it anymore. it had taken me hours to discover that the fear of falling was greater than the fear of hitting the bottom.
i didn't expect it to hurt that much. it didn't make me feel better afterwards like she said it would. i came so close to allowing real blood to entwine with tears, it felt like the blade was already slicing through skin before i'd picked the handle up. i can still feel it now. but once again, like many times before, she stopped me. for a moment, i hated her for her power over me. i wanted her to let go, needed her to let me feel something. a sick desire to accomplish something on my own, without influence from other people. people who know nothing.
do you know how scary it is? how afraid i was? completely alone in the dim evening light, clutching at my hood; shaking, blind and unable to breathe. i wasn't expecting that either.
i find it ironic that i was saved by a man. he only called me for a chat - i didn't prompt him. and i didn't tell him about the state i was in. pretending is second nature. who needs to know? its not like im the only one. maybe he'll never know how much i owe him. just one thankyou when he had to go; i didn't explain why and he never asked. i think he knew not to, and that is a gift in itself.
the pain is still there. the lock has been broken, the frosted glass wall shattered to pieces before me. once they start, they won't stop. i find it strange that the key to lock was merely putting myself in someone else's circumstances. empathy. finally, i understood something. i cried for her, and i cried for me.
Friday, 17 September 2010
the end of one notebook, the beginning of a new one.
i've had my notebook for four years. it took me a while to learn how to trust it, but after a few months it took to travelling with me everywhere. everything goes in the notebook: random thoughts, occasional pieces of homework, legendary quotes, whole episode dialogues from my favourite tv shows. and every once in a while, as i try (and usually fail) to understand something, an attempt at an actual piece of writing. something which i love doing, but definitely need to improve on!
sadly, my beloved notebook is slowly coming to the end of its life, having been drowned by several glasses of water and ripped to pieces by various sharp objects in my bag. so, i thought, why not start a new notebook; one that can't be (affectionately) abused or worn over time?
this is now the start of my blog, a 'new beginning' - trying not to sound too dramatic and cheesy here :)
so here goes.
sadly, my beloved notebook is slowly coming to the end of its life, having been drowned by several glasses of water and ripped to pieces by various sharp objects in my bag. so, i thought, why not start a new notebook; one that can't be (affectionately) abused or worn over time?
this is now the start of my blog, a 'new beginning' - trying not to sound too dramatic and cheesy here :)
so here goes.
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