Have you ever woken up to the light tapping of water against the porcelain sink and be sure you must be dreaming, for reality can never be that mink. Stood in a line for hours, for the right to hold what you’ve earned only to be told that’s not what we’ve learned. Have you ever felt, destitute, lost in a city full of millions? With the loud scream of a new born, loud horns blaring, but your heart lost in silence.

The therapist said whenever I got bad again then I should write how I feel. Though I don’t know how it helps when all I can think about is how perfect it would all feel to lie at the bottom of a ditch. How i dream of blood, my blood, my tainted mess no longer tempted to live no more. I am in a desert a spiritual desert, dying a thousand deaths with each single word I sprout.

She also said I should tell someone, ask for help but then how am I to ask when they call it ‘a mind fuck.’ Somehow convinced that this tangled mess inside of me only exists as a cry for attention. Somehow convinced that this tangled mess inside of me isn’t as real as my tear stained face as i type out this letter.
In all honesty I crave not the attention as much as I crave the promise of silence. The promise that this mess will one day seize to exist, that all that will remain is a disheveled body and no longer will i be forced to feel like a damaged outcast. Cast away my lack of ability to be normal.

They say I feel too much but they seem to ignore how badly i crave to silence these emotions. Show me the button and I will be the first to shut down all the piercing pain that cripples my ability to be. To be or not to be? I am but a tainted mess of my own making, a painful reminder that I will never live in perfect silence. That the love I so heavily crave may not exist as far as the cry for world peace may never be answered.
How great would that be? If our prayers were to be answered. If we weren’t surrounded this decaying waste of a body, chilled and lost within this decaying waste of a mind. In all honesty I may just be crazy, I may be surrounded nothingness and festering into an unexplainable half cast version of myself. In all honesty I can’t tell what thoughts are real and what are not, for all the voices in my head tread to fast and I cannot seem to keep up. All I can tell is that the pain I feel is as real as the unwanted air circling my body, keeping me alive to die another death within my long lost unwanted soul.

All I can tell is my wish remains the same, to one day feel the unconditional, irresistible, inhibited love of another. All I can tell is I neither wish nor want to fight the long battle of sinners and frogs in order to uncover a prince. All i can see is the blood, so will you please pass me the blade.

Share this post

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on linkedin
Share on pinterest
Share on print
Share on email

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Want to be Updated ?

join our community

Subscribe now