Confessions of a Sick Mind

What do you think all day long?

Where is it that you disappear?

Is it some place where you finally belong?

Some day will you take me there?

Do you think that we will have that place?

To belong to each other ?

I wonder if I will be a part of your space

Or perhaps create another.

Some people just always seem to belong. To a place, to each other. To themselves. There is no sense of restlessness about them. They live their lives or exist in them without worry or care. Some people have it sorted.I am not one of those people. I live my life through the eyes of another. There is always this feeling of being watched. Of being judged. Of being evaluated perhaps.Over the past five or six years I have grown up. I feel like a tree. One whose roots got stuck. I do not know if its a bad feeling.

I am surprised today. This hasn't happened in a long time. My ego is finally like the feathers of water birds. The water either slides off.

Hushed

Peace of mind or a mind in pieces. A piece meal way of being peaceful. They say ignorance is bliss. I disagree. I think that void is what eats us all up on the inside. You must fill it. With whatever you choose.

Someone asked me a question the other day: "What is your first love?" I was surprised at how promptly I answered : "books". I was also surprised at how relieved I felt that the question hadn't been "Who was your first love?"

On stone benches beneath leafy trees, on shadowy stairwells and sometimes inside empty classrooms is where it all began... The only love affair that I am proud of. There was commitment to a fault and loyalty to none. As I devoured hungrily what they had to offer they took from the right to shape my dreams, my love, my life. Each and every sentence that was written was for me and each and every time I was smitten with how selfish I was allowed to be. There were sentences I wanted to say and hear and found myself whispering in imagined conversations. There were meanings of love that I had been looking for my entire life and that I eventually found on turning a page...

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They were probably words she remembered from a different life time. Or perhaps she had found them in the various rooms of her head. There was a certain disgrace in her many desires and she had many useless and futile battles with herself and them. The day she met him the words came tumbling out. He was wonderfully kind.

A Hundred Years

I cannot stay.
With you is life and never presume I want that.
I wish.
Death spurns us because we are not wise.
It swishes past with it's cloak of scorn
and looks down it's nose at our mortality.
I breathe with you and feel judged.
Somehow the closer you are,
the hollower it is,
until
the void (not made of hunger) increases and pushes you beyond.
I hope.
Of course I will weep.
Despair does define us.

Ruin

The first selfish straw broke the camel's back. If I could tell you I would tell you this - I was trying to be perfect. I was trying so hard to be perfect for you.

Belief. Principles. You. Me.

I feel like I'm walking on a land mine.

There is a frenzied running from room to room. They are searching for papers. Paper that I know they do not have. I wish they'd stop. And tell me that I must help. The air is filled with useless panic. And it is filling me with hate. I wonder if the anxiety is genetic. I wonder if they will care if I tell them that it is unbearable. I wonder if they will stop panicking for a second to care...

Arzoo

I am Arzoo.
and all of the nights
and all of the days
I think frantically of beating hearts.

I dance crazily in mirrored rooms.
I whirl, swirl, and twirl in red skirts,
And laugh hysterically at the flashes of red!

The mirrors on the walls,
Smile inwardly
At the pain I fling into the room.