Full Circle

Complacency with lack of...and high horses and defensive yelling.. all seem to have such a simple explanation.
I was right about certain things in life being pointless. There are too many people on this planet. Not to mention in this country alone. You can sit in your room and have endless phone conversations with someone and be blissfully unaware that there is someone out there who got in between.. or maybe got there first.
It happens to people. In fact it happens to them right under their nose and they're busy worrying about stupid things like lies and hurt and doing the right thing.

Faces aren't easy to read. Not even when they're close enough for noses to bump. You can look into someone's eyes and see your own longing reflected back and happily accept. Even though there will always be visions of midnight kisses with others and perhaps more...

Purge

I wish I could scream. I wish that there was some place that you could go to and then just scream it all out. It'd save a lot of people a whole lot of trouble.

There are impressions of me that do not match. There are definitions that do not fit and there are lies which are sometimes so true it's insulting to have to believe otherwise.
Every single day, there are voices in my head and it's like they killed my angel and buried it somewhere so that all I can hear is myself and them.
I wish I could scream. I hope that when I finally do it, I will be understood.

Choke

"You leave me with a foul taste in my mouth."

I begin to plead silently for little parts of me to erode away into dignified oblivion somewhere..
By the end of it everyone is a stranger.
The space fills quickly with reverberating echoes of rancor and hate.

Rime

When they were newly married, they'd sleep in positions which ensured physical contact throughout the night. Sometimes, they'd be face to face so that their foreheads would touch, sometimes, he'd put his arm around her waist and draw her close. She would always end up saying his name out loud in deep sleep.

One morning, she awoke to find him looking her and was thrilled that he'd been watching her sleep. He kissed her on the nose and then lay back looking forlorn.
"What is it my love?" she asked.
"Why do you say his name every night, night after night?" he whispered sadly.
________________________________________________________

I hold his hand for lack of something better to do. The distance between where we are and where we should be is immense. The restlessness, anguish and pain of both our beating hearts creates a cocoon inside which we exist in each other's solitude.

If I find what I am looking for, I fear it may be something that will be the manifestation of my vilest most horrid beliefs.
His rancor, through which I have discovered a void within myself where I wish to be buried alive, has made my soul splinter into little pieces which do not feel complete anymore.

They say live... with it.... and without it...

I wish they'd tell me how.

Red Shoal

Stifled within yourself. An island in the middle of a red lagoon of pulsating nothingness.
You're mesmerized by the thought that the mind carries the body and not the other way around. In your case which carries which has never occurred to you.

There comes a certain moment when you manage to humiliate yourself and feel such degradation so deep somewhere that you begin to hate with this fiery intensity anything that makes you think.

Whenever you will pick yourself up and dust off the failure that others have piled upon you, there will always be others waiting to pull you back down again. Those that claim to love you are the most capable. You will let them think for you, all the while remaining an island and at the same time will try to float into a pathetic merged existence with them.

There is no respect. For you, or for your scathing resentment of all that there is around and beyond. All this while you never realise, that more than anything else, you have this need to destruct.

When you peek over the edge of the island. The red is shallow and your reflection is upside down...