The siege.

-
The world blurs and melts,
indicating the start of the ending,
the world falls into mass chaos,
after slowly dripping into an oozy thick black deliquescent substance,
slipping through my own fingers, liquid suffering covering my hands,
guilt.. 
for all the things I am feeling,
for all the things I am not,
for all the skeletons hanged in my closet,
for all the hostages of secrets, terrified and loud in spite of how many times I stifle their noises.
for all the dead thoughts, stagnant and sordid in spite of being buried miles within me.
I have got miles and miles of skin,
but it's transparent windopane, and there is no point of hiding that circus of crazed mess, it's on full display. 
it's my shadow of an entourage,
it's everything I am,
it's everything I am not.
it's the things I fear, it's my loneliness  solitude,
I am losing my mind in this murky place,
I am on my way
I am lost. 
with no destination, no direction,
I am being devoured by a quicksand of nothingness,
the false promise of safety awaiting,
it's nothing but a brutal lie, a cruel joke by the universe, 
I am losing everything now,
it's too late to retreat,
The more I try to pull myself out the quicker I sink, 
All I can do is hold still
The only way out is through. 

   

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

mirror

-
My thoughts are not holy, My body isn't a temple It's not a sacred space It's tender flesh and a fragile spine, It's nothing remotely divine, It's belimished skin and visible markings, I know there is solace in metaphors, in similes, in saying things not as they are but as what they're like,  in trying to compare what you can't understand to what you do, Maybe only then it will make sense, Trying to simplify it, pulling threads and tying ends and loosening knots, trying to make it look familiar, But it is almost never accurate, Words are just letters, More times than not they hold little to no significance. Little to no reassurance, little to no validation, Sorry , a half hearted apology Always met with sincere acceptance. 
Read more

The apartment

-
 When I think about my ideal house. I think wide balconies,  I think penthouse,  I think small yet not claustrophobia inducing.  I think roomy but not huge.  I think large but just enough to house two people and a pet, preferably a cat.  I think walls, muted yellow and forest green,  I think walls that you can pin me against and kiss me. I think walls, unlike the ones I keep around my heart, that aren't prone to crumbling at any hint of tenderness. I think walls I can hang up pictures of us. Crappy art I make and posters of your favorite things. I think of walls that have ears but never heard screaming or anger, I think of walls that have never witnessed disappointment.  I think of warm nights and cool breeze and long hugs and affection unaccounted for. 
Read more

The Quest.

-
I know regret when I see it, I spot it easily on your grey blotted aura. It glistens through your bloodshot eyes,  the windows of your soul, one glance is more than enough to recognize it. You have taken it upon yourself to seek redemption, From things you have no control over, but it never hurts to try. The sought after resurrection of what have been long dead will drain you, yet, you carry on, with a broken compass and a useless map, determined to revive what was once alive, reclaim what was once yours, But you can't seem to find it. That missi ng thing. You tell yourself that you've got nothing to lose and maybe Just maybe This time there will be a different outcome. A lie you cradle along with the truth. And when you go back to where you started, You swallow your pride and  disappointment, Like splinters of wood,  But your insides are lined with sandpaper, your spine is made of steel, and none of it longer fazes you.
Read more