Of One's Ture Love
I feel lousy i feel sick in the pit of my stomach. Its nights like this the sweet cooing of the pavement below seems so deliciously tempting. Come to me my love, she seems to say, and you'd want nothing more than to rush down at the all too slow speed of 100 meters a second. Life right now can't end too fast.
Love is suppused to feel light, and sugary, like the rush you get after you buy everything from the candy store. You're supposed to feel revived, with boundless energy, greater, stronger, with that stupid smile on your face, that automatically disqualifies you from having any opinions whatsoever. Its supposed to give you butterflies in your stomach, a single minded reason in your mind.
Not this. Sugar sick, twisted with mixed feelings, tired and helpless beyond the point where you can hold your head high. Praying for a quick death, so you wont feel the pangs of whats to come. I don't want to open my heart to anyone, i dont need to be reminded again how it feels, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, its not that hard to remember. When i wake up, before i go to sleep, when i start to feel happier, when i'm down, the little knife nibbles at my heart, always working, always haunting my mind, breaking me down to the point i wonder if i am even human anymore, to the point i'd embrace that moment when i just couldn't care less and swim in a bitter pool of my own bile. Always ready, always waiting for the one thing that i want so much, but i've been forever blinded to.
I'm not sure, maybe this is what its supposed to be. The muddle headed poets must have gotten it wrong. Love is that feeling of twisted emotion, like a punch to the gut, that you dont surrender to, and you fight with every last breathe. Its that feeling, that your heart is overcome, and you have to fight, muster the strength of your arm, and take your own life before somebody does it for you.
And you who judge me, please note, you will be in my shoes one day, 8/10 people in the world suffer from depression. And if you dont see whats there in this world to be depressed about, you're probably too stupid to notice the noose around your neck until the floorboards benethe your feel collapse, and you realise you are swinging limp, because your spine is broken and whatever your brain is telling your body to do, elicits no response, and you feel the entire weight of your body for once in your life, the entire weight of your life for once, utterly helpless, so terrified you're pissing in your pants, because your brain function is not working, and you swing in accordance to the gravity of your lifes work, and its too late to cry, and you cant close your eyes, because by now they're popping out of your sockets, your muscles spasm, and your feet twitch, and you swing, like a child at a playground, left and right left and right, the lack of oxygen to your brain then causes you to feel faint, and the world fades out of view, and the last thing you hear are the words, that you are Dead, Dead, Dead.
She loves you, and at least she is faithful, you know she will come to claim you, and she will not forget about you. She will not hurt you, but she will take you away with the sweetest kiss. And as you draw a deep breath, as you inhale the scent of her into your nostrils, you will be fufilled, in your heart and of your worldly obligations. She will have you by her side, and though in that moment you belong to her, she does not exercise her dominion over you. For once, you know the peace of belonging. You follow her into the darkness, leaving behind all the memories, all the hurt, all the pain and suffering, all the wrong you've caused, all the theological and philosophical debates, the theories, the emotion, the What Ifs.
And for once, you can truly say, "At last, I am Content!"
Claim me my love, before another does.
Love is suppused to feel light, and sugary, like the rush you get after you buy everything from the candy store. You're supposed to feel revived, with boundless energy, greater, stronger, with that stupid smile on your face, that automatically disqualifies you from having any opinions whatsoever. Its supposed to give you butterflies in your stomach, a single minded reason in your mind.
Not this. Sugar sick, twisted with mixed feelings, tired and helpless beyond the point where you can hold your head high. Praying for a quick death, so you wont feel the pangs of whats to come. I don't want to open my heart to anyone, i dont need to be reminded again how it feels, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, stab and twist, its not that hard to remember. When i wake up, before i go to sleep, when i start to feel happier, when i'm down, the little knife nibbles at my heart, always working, always haunting my mind, breaking me down to the point i wonder if i am even human anymore, to the point i'd embrace that moment when i just couldn't care less and swim in a bitter pool of my own bile. Always ready, always waiting for the one thing that i want so much, but i've been forever blinded to.
I'm not sure, maybe this is what its supposed to be. The muddle headed poets must have gotten it wrong. Love is that feeling of twisted emotion, like a punch to the gut, that you dont surrender to, and you fight with every last breathe. Its that feeling, that your heart is overcome, and you have to fight, muster the strength of your arm, and take your own life before somebody does it for you.
And you who judge me, please note, you will be in my shoes one day, 8/10 people in the world suffer from depression. And if you dont see whats there in this world to be depressed about, you're probably too stupid to notice the noose around your neck until the floorboards benethe your feel collapse, and you realise you are swinging limp, because your spine is broken and whatever your brain is telling your body to do, elicits no response, and you feel the entire weight of your body for once in your life, the entire weight of your life for once, utterly helpless, so terrified you're pissing in your pants, because your brain function is not working, and you swing in accordance to the gravity of your lifes work, and its too late to cry, and you cant close your eyes, because by now they're popping out of your sockets, your muscles spasm, and your feet twitch, and you swing, like a child at a playground, left and right left and right, the lack of oxygen to your brain then causes you to feel faint, and the world fades out of view, and the last thing you hear are the words, that you are Dead, Dead, Dead.
She loves you, and at least she is faithful, you know she will come to claim you, and she will not forget about you. She will not hurt you, but she will take you away with the sweetest kiss. And as you draw a deep breath, as you inhale the scent of her into your nostrils, you will be fufilled, in your heart and of your worldly obligations. She will have you by her side, and though in that moment you belong to her, she does not exercise her dominion over you. For once, you know the peace of belonging. You follow her into the darkness, leaving behind all the memories, all the hurt, all the pain and suffering, all the wrong you've caused, all the theological and philosophical debates, the theories, the emotion, the What Ifs.
And for once, you can truly say, "At last, I am Content!"
Picking at flower petals, i whisper softly in my mind.
She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me till the end of time.
As that silent smiles rose to my face,
Like memories from her warm embrace,
Dark petals fall from weary hands
Like silent shadows through sifting sands
She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me till the end of time.
As that silent smiles rose to my face,
Like memories from her warm embrace,
Dark petals fall from weary hands
Like silent shadows through sifting sands
Claim me my love, before another does.
posted by Seython at 3:18 am
1 Comments:
Oh what a wonderful feeling of losing one's mind. Its so beautiful when your purpose becomes so clearly illuminated. And i miss writing in somewhat lyrical rhyming lines. Every post is written with a specific somebody in mind. This one if for the child whos been dying since the day she was born. I'd also like to add, pun intended, Life Is for the taking.
Post a Comment
<< Home