An unmanned piano plays our song aggressively as though possessed.
I exhale and see my breath, it is colder than the Arctic in your absence.
The wind howls outside my window and I can swear it has your voice, it's calling me.
Like footsteps in an abandoned house, I am still haunted by you and me.
I have returned to hiding not wanting my presence to be known,
a phantom in this world desperate to be reunited with you, my soul.
Our tragedy replays in my head like a chilling horror movie scene,
my pain made me a monster although that is no excuse for the torment or abuse I put you through. Haunted by you now, our memories like graves of loved ones that died prematurely;
they line the cemetery that is my brain in rows that will never be complete.
No longer inhabited by human life that has ceased, our world succumbed to loneliness and is covered in disease.
Devoid of life, it starts to fall apart and decay;
all because you left me, why did you have to go away?
You haunt me in my dreams, my only nightmare is my reality.
Without you, silence has conquered me. I do not want to speak
for fear my words will deceive me by revealing my grief.
Thunderstorms and bones the only remnants of our love, eerie to accept that this is all that we have left.
You have haunted me, I cannot even sleep now that I am unwanted,
my demons have returned to devour me.
Knocks on my door though no one is there,
my heartbeat no longer races, as my lungs don't care for air.
Not even familiar faces could ease the misery that only responds to your company.
I am the sole occupant of this asylum in my head,
shock therapy could not even eliminate all this dread.
Haunt me, now that you have gone away, possess my every waking thought,
if it's the only way you can remain.
I needed you but I know I am to blame.
Haunted by you now, I will not let you hurt me by leaving.
I live in a world where you and I still coexist; I refuse to acknowledge that anything is amiss.
Craving your fingers, I could be disarmed by your kiss.
You will continue to haunt me as I sink further into this ill-conceived abyss.
Accident-prone yet bulletproof, resilience courses through my veins. After plucking out the shrapnel from my own Hell-Bent self-destruction, all I was left with was me. Through embracing my darkness, I found the light. Here lie a sordid collection of POETRY, PROSE, AND REFLECTIONS on the traumas & triumphs along the way.
Tuesday, September 03, 2013
Sunday, September 01, 2013
Dementia.
Comedy is a comforting mask that helps me cope when I am encompassed by darkness that infects my world and paints it black.
I am imprisoned by my own thoughts, anxiety reveals its ugliness cheapening any sense of accomplishment that I might have.
I grip reality, desperately, so I am not pulled into the burning inferno underground that threatens to devour me whole; it is my personal Hell.
I do my best to embody my interpretation of normal, attempt to see things in a positive light despite my knowledge that my glass is broken, not half full.
My smile is as carefully constructed as a house of cards, one wrong move and all of me comes crashing down to the ground.
Tears well in the corner of my eyes as I question why but know that God works in mysterious ways. When will my sadness be replaced by my life that permanently remains on hold.
I wish I could hit rewind and return to the point where roads diverged;
I would choose wisely this time instead of chasing petulant dreams that have led me astray.
A wasted life, unfulfilled resulted in my idle mind.
Fragile paper heart of mine that rips apart time after time, my hard exterior guards shatter so often that they are scarred.
Tired of being a perpetual work in progress, I really need change like the Earth needs rain.
Resigned but resolute I will try to be resilient although it's become an arms race, imperative that I finally prove that I am brilliant.
I am imprisoned by my own thoughts, anxiety reveals its ugliness cheapening any sense of accomplishment that I might have.
I grip reality, desperately, so I am not pulled into the burning inferno underground that threatens to devour me whole; it is my personal Hell.
I do my best to embody my interpretation of normal, attempt to see things in a positive light despite my knowledge that my glass is broken, not half full.
My smile is as carefully constructed as a house of cards, one wrong move and all of me comes crashing down to the ground.
Tears well in the corner of my eyes as I question why but know that God works in mysterious ways. When will my sadness be replaced by my life that permanently remains on hold.
I wish I could hit rewind and return to the point where roads diverged;
I would choose wisely this time instead of chasing petulant dreams that have led me astray.
A wasted life, unfulfilled resulted in my idle mind.
Fragile paper heart of mine that rips apart time after time, my hard exterior guards shatter so often that they are scarred.
Tired of being a perpetual work in progress, I really need change like the Earth needs rain.
Resigned but resolute I will try to be resilient although it's become an arms race, imperative that I finally prove that I am brilliant.
Deadly.
The darkest parts of me screamed bloody murder, ignoring the truth that I deserved to be left high and dry. I accused God of abandonment, cursing my beloved as though I was devoid of fault or sin. My wrath wreaked havoc as it sought to exact revenge for events that only ever occurred inside my head. My vengeance more vain than Narcissus whose own reflection was responsible for his watery demise. A glutton for self indulgence, I feasted on your sanity until you were consumed then picked at your bones as if they were dessert. Envious of your ability to love, I would never admit that I aspired to taint it with my deep seated jealousy that was conceived long before you arrived. Like a sloth, lethargy atrophied every muscle in the body of us then assumed we'd survive instead of making any effort. Comatose, I chose to cope by sedating even the most faint glimmer of hope. Ravenous my eyes bewildered by lust as I grew infatuated with the mere idea of gaining then draining your trust. Lasciviously slobbering as if we were destined to be like the mark of the beast or contagion and disease. Like a cancerous growth, I maligned you from the inside out, until your sanity turned into psychosis. My greed to be the first man to destroy you became the fuel that sponsored my endeavour, I disparaged your landscape like inclement weather. My moods as inconsistent as seismic activity during an earthquake, they fluctuated as often as we say our own names in a single day. Forgive me father for I have sinned, our love became the eighth cardinal vice, the final nail in the coffin that robbed us of life. You walked through the valley of the shadow of death the moment you let go and let me steal your last breath.
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Epiphany.
Discovering parts of me buried beneath years of neglect, dust covered heart rusty from disrespect. Empty for so long though I acted like I was full, spreading myself too thin, it's no surprise my soul craves attention. My ego prevented me from seeing the truth, facts that were as clear as starry nights in the country sky. Narcissistic exterior that refused to let me progress, excuses became the barriers that convoluted my fortress. I was the shepherd to a flock of sheep that were really scapegoats, blindly leading the blind, accountability could have been my antidote. Claimed to have no expectations but the demon inside me that would not be exorcised demanded forgiveness for its infatuation with lies. I pulled the veil further over my eyes and filled my ears with cotton that made me immune to others' pleas to be heard and not forgotten. Ignorance was so much easier than acceptance, I avoided every lesson that could have been my blessing. Escape became the only option that I considered, as any attempt to face the harshness of my existence had me embittered. Blame became the flames that ravaged my reason and I the skilled arsonist whose self-worth suffered third degree burns from his own treason. Death by firing squad armed with silver bullets would have even failed to penetrate the facade that I wore like a cure. I acted unconsciously always on edge and ready to attack, more than the most explosive chemicals in an unstable lab. I must accept my past now so that my present does not also slip through my fingers like sand. I will never taste a drop of success unless I address the remnants of the reality that I have repressed. No promises to please, inaction is my archnemesis. I will rescue my spirit and save it from the entity by which it has been possessed. It's time to remove the layers of bandages and learn to love the wounds now that I am naked and undressed.
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