4/26/09 - If Death

If death came for me tonight, on black winged horses of death, I would surely welcome him.
I would bow my head in his presence, and allow my soul to be takin.
If death came for me tonight, I would ask not to be chained with rusted spiked chains of torment, but follow of my own accord, slowly and with no doubt in my mind.
If death came for me tonight, I would myself clamber into his carriage of lost souls, to be takin away with no fight or commotion, I would merely seat myself at his side ready and willing.
If death came for me tonight, I would ask only one favor, to allow me one moment in time which I could erase, in exchange I would willingly endure the pain I am promised.
If death came for me tonight, I would not fear his hooded black figure, nor would I run and cower, I would tell him only this, a lovers hell is within, to love is to be tormented.
If death came for me tonight, I would smile and be thankful to no longer have to bare being toyed with by your foulness.
If death came for me tonight, I would be ready

4/26/09 - Forlorn

Up until yesterday there was hope, some faint inclination in my mind that said even though this "break" is on, that we'll still end up together. Its not the first time, that this particular brand of hope has flowed through my veins, nor is it the first time I've given up on it.
Because the things my eyes casually stumbled over yesterday morning were enough to rid me of the small amount of hope I had left, enough to strip me of any feelings I have left for you.
It is with great regret that I am writing this, because I find as I spill more and more of it into a physical state, I condemn myself to reality, I ensure that the thing I fear most is coming true.
I had all the hope in the world for us, but because of you all that's left is doubt

4/26/09 - Empty Inside

Lately I feel cold inside, even on days when the sun is up and shining bright. I feel like I've lost my motivation, school doesn't seem important, its distant, like a dream or a memory im having a hard time remembering. I wonder if it will come back, my will to live, because honestly life's dull without it.
I've been thinking of school, it doesn't seem important, its as if I don't want it, it's gotten confusing and I find myself thinking is this something I really want to do with my life? Then I tell myself to think of all the time and money I've already put into it, and how much of a waste it 0would be to just stop going.
Im not social, but that's nothing new, people interest me,but I think id rather watch than interact, close friends dissappear, again nothing new. I think perhaps a new life is something im looking for, but let's face it, that's not happening anytime soon.
I think of love and hate, and how much they go hand in hand, I feel I've lost my love, like the sense to love has disappeared from her, but im scared that if I try and fight for it back, I may instead be fighting to push it away instead. Why is it that the one thing you want the most of you must have the least of? Why is it that if you can't except that little bit then you can't have any at all? The things that matter the most to me in life aren't clear right now, I know what I want, but there's a difference between the things one wants, and the things one needs, I wish I could have a moment of clarity, I wish I could just understand

4/26/09 - A Dream

Last night I went for a walk
It was late and the weather seemed to be reflecting my emotions, as there was a terrible storm in the air.
As I've done many times before I left the house for my walk with no cover, no shield against the weather, I allowed the stormy rain and winds to beat upon me in all direction, lost in my own thoughts.
It was then that I happened upon an empty parking lot, or so I thought at first glance.
Strolling through I realized that of the few cars calling this empty lot home there was one alone that stood apart from them all,the lights were on.
At a distance I could make nothing of the scene, but upon approach I noticed two females inside, apparently alone.
Perhaps they needed help I do not know, but that is the assumption I made as I stealthily made my way closer.
But I was not alone on this night, as a cloaked figure reached my destination before I could.
Although still at a distance, I could see it was a man of fairly muscular build, poking his head through the window to ask for a moment of their time.
At once he thrust his hand into the cracked window and proceeded to claw at the women furtively.
I was there quickly, my hands grasping his coat firmly I tossed him to the side as the women came from within the car.
Upon his hunched figure I leaped, fury in my heart at the scum that would take advantage of these women.
I stood him and with furious fists began to cut down this late night attacker, from behind a kick I landed, my hands pushing him away as he began to realize this fight had purpose.
Into his open jaw I thrust my hands, prying one in each direction as if to open his roar wider, I used all my force, while yelling at the small women at my side to call the police.
With a thrust I spun him around and into a nearby tree, upon which he shattered to my amazement like a porcelain doll.
Staring at the only reminants, his cloak and hood, I turned to stare upon the would be victims of his vicious attack.
I was met by a beautiful woman, now soaked, who embraced me in a longing manner, and repeated her thanks upon me, her so entitled savior.
Even with the pelting rain and wind I could make out her lips, and I found myself longing to embrace this strange woman in what I was sure would be a kiss the likes of which I had never felt.
Instead however, she looked me directly in the eyes and smiled, a beautifully stunning awe inspiring smile, and with that I woke up from my dream.0

4/26/09 - Tell Me

Sometimes I wonder
Do I despise u? Do I make you uncomfortable? Is it something about the way iam that repulses you so?
And do not try to act otherwise, I see it in the way you are, in the very essence of your being, from the way you walk to the way you laugh, it is apparent to me that something is being held back.
But if that's true why is it that you cannot simply say "leave me alone", is it really that difficult to say how you really feel? Instead each time im around your voice changes, your attitude becomes dark, your eyes twinkle with hate, or disgust, or some other emotion that does not agree with me.
Why do you talk that way? Why is there such feeling into the way you act when im there, when I speak and move, and walk, and breathe even. Why do I see you shudder when my mouth opens to say something, why do you pretend to laugh at things that once made your beautiful smile surface? Why do you hang up on me so abruptly when we're on the Phone?
If its me please let me know, how can you go on pretending to care, or enjoy the company I give you day after day, don't you understand I can visibly see when something bothers you? Can you be so cruel to continue this joke you call adoration? Why not be true? Why not tell me how I make you feel inside? How I make your stomach turn and your mouth go dry, why do you continue to act as if I don't see the reality in your words?
Why do I continue to love you so?

4/26/09 - Itching

There is a pain in my chest, an itching feeling. Sometimes its not so bad, but when it is, I feel as if ripping the very skin off my bones would be the only cure to my affliction. Oh how it itches! If only you could see, if only I could give it away, pass it on so that it doesn't rack my brain at all hours of the day, unable to be scratched, unwilling to stop, I am not human.
You might hear me say that im hungry, but in reality I feel no hunger, I eat because this body I occupy needs the nourishment. You might perhaps run across me on a day when I yawn and exclaim how tired I am, but to be honest I do not feel the need to sleep. I am not sleepy, I am awake at all times of the day, even in the early morning hours following a sleepless night I feel no fatigue.
You see me smile and laugh but I am not happy, I do these things because it is normal to feel and to show these emotions, I do not enjoy things. You may think im dull, no hunger, no sleep, no happiness, but I don't know any better, I wish to give away this illness of mine, but remember I am not human

3/24/09 - Serenade

Each night, promptly at 11 he awakens, dresses, and attains his
instrument. He begins his walk of twenty minutes so that he is at his
destination with 10 minutes to spare, he uses these 10 minutes to set up
his instrument, and so begins the serenade.


She once was his lover, his passion, his reason to be awake and alive in
the day, but through uncontrollable circumstances she is lost, but he
cannot give up. He sings to her these nights, five of the seven of each
week, songs of love and sorrow, he weaves her vocal tales of his pain
and pleasure at her expanse, he vows to make her love him once again.
For one hour each night he pours his soul out through his words and
sweet melodies, singing to her silhouette sitting still in the 2nd story
window.

When he is finished he bids her farewell, with promises to love her
forever and ever, and with the further promises that she will hear from
him the next night.


Each night, promptly at eleven forty five she awakens, stirred by her
dreams of melodies and sorrow, she gets up and dresses in her night
gown, seats herself at her window and glances into the yard next door,
she see's him arrive and begin to set up his instrument, as he begins to
play she closes her eyes and wishes only he would remember the right
house.

3/23/09 - The Inner Depths Of The Heart

The human heart is known as the strongest muscle in the body, it is made
up of many vessels and hundreds of capillaries. But deep in the center
there exists a space, a cavity directly in the center that is hollow
inside, it is known as The Inner Depth Of The Heart.


This Space is allowed to one person in your lifetime, and only one, it
is the space allowed for your first true love, the love that is never
forgotten.

It is the reason why, when things don't always turn out the way you
hope, your first love is never forgotten. It is the reason why memories
come easily from the days when that love was new.

It Is Never Forgotten.

3/19/09 - I Wonder

What would you know about normality? About not sleeping at night, about
thoughts creeping into your mind at all hours of the day? what would you
know about normality? About being fucked up for a while and finally
putting it to rest? About fixing the problem inside and not having to
worry about it anymore?

Now What Would You Know About Pain? About a burning feeling inside your
chest, about thoughts in your head scratching and fighting their way
out until the point of physical pain? What Would You Know about
suicide? The act of taking the pain away from yourself? Some say
cowardly but what if it fits in right? Takes the pain away from your
life, but takin life away with it?

And now the strange part, what happens when theirs no pain? When things
that are supposed to hurt don't? What if you don't feel anything at all,
but go about your day like it was any normal day? Smiles and laughter
become your best friends, and you forget the things that once ruled your
nightmares.

And what do you know about revenge? About taking things that weren't
yours and giving them away? About presents meant for you and no one else
and handed out like they were free, what if you get the urge to find out
what it's like? Your brain begins to tickle and you begin to wonder, its
not such a bad idea, revenge, it soothes the pain even further, it
begins to stalk your mind each day.

Revenge erases the lies, it helps you know what really went down, and so
you smile, because surely revenge is the right choice, it negates the
other emotions, revenge is the right choice for this situation, and in
time, your actions will become clear to those who need them.

3/7/09 - Torn Apart

His skin was red and hurting, tender to the touch from having withstood
all the hot water of the shower in which he had let out everything
inside, tears mixing with water.
And now he was dressed,alone in his
apartment staring out into the quickly darkening sky, he stood and made
his way to the kitchen, hunger was last on his mind but his body told
him he needed it. He cut meat and chopped vegetables, his eyes
momentarily fixated on the long sharp knife in his hand, briefly he
considered running it quickly along his throat, but discarded the
thought.
After dinner, he made his way about the apartment mopping
its wooden floor, his eyes caught on the simplicity of the many sockets
and plugs around his home, and he momentarily pondered thrusting the
wet mop head into the socket, electrocuting himself quickly, the
thought vanished into the air.

In

the end, he decided sleep was better, more necessary given the wild
thoughts flowing through his mind. He lay and turned off all the lights
of the empty apartment, closing his eyes one last thought in mind. As
he slept, the broken shards of his shattered heart pierced his organs
and he at last slept peacefully.

2/17/09 - Dear Love

Dear Love,

I write this with
shaking hands, cold to the touch, numb with fear and filled with emotion. My
hands shake, you see, because I’m nervous, afraid that I’m making a mistake
writing this message, afraid of rejection, of pain, of failure. But I can no
longer hold my emotions within, I cannot continue to watch you from afar,
oblivious of my existence, while I am so aware of everything you do. You see I
am in love, in love with your smile, with your laugh, with the way you wear
your hair, and the way you walk to class, the little things you do are my
favorite. Your beauty hails in comparison to nothing else on this planet, I am
firmly certain that you are the most perfect thing in existence. I spend my
nights dreaming of your face, your laughter fills my mind when you’re not around.
My heart knows that I belong solely to you; it yearns for your love and
compassion, to hear the words I say to you each night before I drift to sleep.

I wish only to love
you completely, and even though each day we grow older, I want nothing more
than what most may call, puppy love, I want to love you with my childish heart,
to write silly letters in the fog my breath causes on the window, to surprise
you with gifts, flowers, freshly plucked from the school garden. I despise the
old love, the love with no affection, where everything is old and experienced, I
want to jump head first into a love neither of us knows, to laugh and joke like
school children. When I look into your beautiful eyes I see an innocence
waiting to be released, I want to grow old with you, but love you inside as if
we were each others first crushes.

And so my love, I must
bring this letter to a close, because I fear if I put to much into it may scare
you off, the last thing my tiny little heart would ever want, but I must know
before I die, a final question I must lay upon your head,

Do you like me too?

Yes [ ] No[ ]

2/13/09 - Late

She was mad, downright furious at this point. He was always on time, as
a matter of fact he hated being late. It was the first time he'd ever
been late to pick her up in the time they'd known each other, and yet
here she was, dressed and waiting for him, she couldn't help being
angry, she'd grown accustomed to him being on time, early even. But then
it went away, it had been 30 minutes, and not even a phone call,
completely unlike him. She stared out the window into the pouring rain
that battered her window, and replaced the anger with fear.


What if he was hurt? What if he'd gotten into trouble? She refused to
think that way, but couldn't help but feel scared. She had been mad at
him, how could she? He'd never been late before, this one time and she
gets angry? Bad thoughts crept into her head, and tears started to form
in her eyes, she panicked. Picking up the phone she called him, no
answer, she continued to dial over and over with no success.


He awoke with a pain in his chest, left arm numb, the taste of blood in
his mouth and a buzzing in his head. He was dizzy and dazed unaware of
where he was momentarily, the blood taste was overwhelming, he spit and
it was then he realized he was upside down. The buzzing was a telephone
somewhere, he couldn't tell exactly where, it was raining hard and he
was in his car. The seat belt was cutting off the circulation to his
arm, and his chest was on fire.


Though he tried he couldn't remember how he'd gotten into the ditch, it
was dark but he could see the white lights, cars passing. His head was
in a massive amount of pain, he tried to pull himself up with his right
and, to relieve the pressure from the seat belt, but he'd lost to much
blood. He barely managed to raise himself and became faint when he
dropped blood rushed to his head, he now couldn't not feel his arm at
all, the movement of the car from the weight of his body caused the
windshield to shatter, ice cold rainwater began to pour in, it was too
late, he could do nothing more. The water level reached his head and
that's when he knew there was no hope, he stopped struggling, his mind
went blank, the car lights passing one by one almost hypnotically
soothing. He closed his eyes, as the water reached them, he reached
again with his hand, a last chance to be free. At last the water passed
his nose, one last breath before the water enclosed his head, growing
past his shoulders struggling to breathe, and alas one last smile as he
thought of how mad she'd be that he was late

2/5/09 - Love Letter

He knew her for four years, they went out for 2 of them, he was in love for 5.
He knew from the moment he first saw her that he wanted to spend the
rest of his life with her, it was just a matter of showing her what he
already knew.

The love grew, between the both of them as he always knew it would. They
went through thick and thin, through tough times and easy moments, and
in the end they always had each other. He proposed on a cool sunny day
in December and she said yes, they were married in April.

Six years passed, 10 in total from the first time they'd been together,
over the years they had numerous happy, sad, angry, loved, hated, and
fearsome moments, but they were happy. At night he barely slept, he
would wake up with words in his head, words he was sure were due to the
fact he'd never been able to tell her exactly how he felt. He had
decided one day a long time ago to write her a letter, to express his
feelings once and for all, it sat in his desk unfinished.

Over the years he would bring it out again, one day here, another there,
for 10 years, but the dreams never stopped. One morning he woke up, went
to his desk, took out the envelope holding his heart and began to write,
last night's dream had been so vivid he was sure what to write, he wrote
and wrote until he could no longer remember the dream. He then neatly
folded the letter and placed it back into it's envelope. Went about his
day and that night he went to sleep as usual.

He woke up the next morning, no dreams from the night before, the first
time in 10 years, he got up, went to his desk took out the envelope
containing his heart, and for the first time in a long time read the
entire thing, when he was done, tears filled his eyes and a smile formed
on his face. He got dressed went to each and everyone of his friends
house to show them and each and every time he was met with the same
response, tears and a smile. He ended at his mothers house, entered with
a look of amusement on his face and when asked what he was up to thrust
the envelop into her hands with the explanation that he couldn't
actually explain it. After reading it, she wiped the tears from her face
and looked up at him, giving to him the words he had been looking for
all along, he had written the greatest love letter of all time.

He raced home to show the one true love of his life the thing he'd kept
a secret for so long, to tell her how he'd watched each and everyone of
his friends and finally his mother burst into tears at his declaration
of love for her.he burst through the door and rushed all through his
house looking for her, instead he was met with a letter of his own, on
the counter top he placed his letter, and picked up hers, within it was
a secret hidden for 10 years, he sat and read it, and when he was done
tears again filled his eyes, it seems he had written the second best
love letter of all time.

1/24/09 - Terrible Pain

Terrible Pain

It Disgusts me, it literally makes me sick to my stomach. it churns the acid in my stomach and makes bile rise up in my throat, i hate it, it doesnt seem to go away. i try and try but no matter how hard i try it doesnt seem to work, it's still there, why? why cant i stop thinking about it? why cant the images leave my head? why cant i stop envisioning those disgusting fucking pictures? it makes me vomit, it makes the skin on my body crawl, it makes me want to rip it off and throw it away, why please tell me can't it stop? i need i to, i cant take it, it's getting worse and i dont know how much longer i can take it. it hurts, its so painful, it's like a bomb exploding in my chest, like a million ants biting me all at once, burrowing deep into my brain. i cant last, im not strong enough, i cant think about it one second more, it makes my heart beat faster, and my nose bleed, it makes my eyes water, and my insides turn. i need them gone, these images forever lost, i need them away, i want to empty my mind, lose all memory of it's existance because a second longer is a millenium to long, a millenium of intense unrelenting pain, it destroys me, it wont go away, i cant stop thinking about it, i cant stop dreaming about it, the nightmares haunt me, they wake me up, they come to me during the day, im horrified to even sleep, i need to get rid of the truth.

1/19/09 - Thanks For The Memories

On his 98th birthday he wakes up in the middle of the night to eerie silence. He gets up, puts his slippers on and by the light of the moon begins his day. Over the many years he has developed many routines with which to live his life, but today is different. He showers early, with warm water, and brushes his teeth with cold water, same as everyday, careful to reach each tooth, but instead of neatly placing his toothbrush back into it's assigned spot on the porcelain plate, he leaves it teetering on the sink. He gets dressed, not his usual fashion, but a black tee shirt and comfortable pants, for breakfast he makes two eggs with salt, not minding his cholesterol or checking his blood pressure, and serves them with cheese and regular toast not the whole grain garbage he's made to eat everyday, washing it all down with apple juice which contains too much sugar. He watches television instead of tending to his garden or reading his newspaper, it is the afternoon now, and his family has come over to celebrate, carefully but surely he enjoys his party, eats his cake, two pieces this year, and opens the few gifts he is sure were bought last minute. When they leave he makes his way into his room, and carefully looks under the bed for a box he has not opened in some many years. Placing it on his bed he gets dressed for bed and settles himself in, retrieving from within the box a leather bound book, wrinkled and dusty with age, as he himself is, he opens it and begins to read. The book is filed with page after page of memories he has written down over the years for a day like today when he might have trouble remembering. His first bicycle, his first car, his parents anniversary, his highschool sweetheart, all living away in the words captured within his self written novel. Memories return to him as vivid as the day the occurred, and he laughs here, and sheds tears there, but in the end, he is reminded in his own scroll, that although life has been good and it has been cruel, his best memories were made with the most special person in his life, and just after the last words he has written, occupying its very own space in the middle of its very own page are words not written in his writing, but in hers, "Thanks For The Memories". And with that, he turns off the light after glancing at her picture one last time, lays down in the bed he has slept in all these years, and closes his eyes one last time before he can be with her again.

1/14/09 - Reality

A crescent moon hung in the sky casting an eerie glow of blue light over the yard.
Stepping from the shadows with a box under my arms I made my way in the blue darkness, the night was hot with a still wind that made the stale air seem particularly obnoxious. Not unpleasant but not catering to anyones wishes, I walked my way through the uneven ground walking back further and further until at last I could glance back and barely see the house that sat in the darkness. I drop to my knees and with my hands begin to dig, deeper and deeper until the
sweat sticks to my back, and my hands are completely covered in dirt.

The hole is ready, but im not, I sit on the edge wondering if this is really the only thing left to do, I open the box and stare into it, my eyes scanning it's contents, drops of sweat escape into it as I close the lid with a heavy sigh. I place the box inside the hole and gently begin to cover it with dirt, covering it completely, I stand, sweat and dirt falling. I turn and walk away exhausted having just buried my hopes and dreams.

1/7/09 - Fear

Fear

When she called him he knew right away something was wrong, something in her voice when she said hello and asked if shed woken him up made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight.
When he arrived at the park, at the exact spot they had shared a loving afternoon once at a time so far ago, and and she came to him from within the shadows, his heart broke all over again. The way she told him of what the other man had done, of how scared she'd been, filled his broken heart with pain. She cried and the salty tears burned away at the cuts and bruises on her face.
When he sat her in his car and began to drive she placed her shaking hand into his and held it tight, so tight after a moment it went numb but he said nothing and she didn't let go until they arrived at his home, and even then only after several moments of his assurance and several more promises he would take her hand again in just a moment.
When he gently washed her face, and cleaned her cuts she wept more and her body shook, he changed her clothes into some of his own, his favorite shirt she'd always loved a pair of pants she'd left a while ago, and layed her into bed.
When she told him she was scared he would come back, that she should hide, he promised her nothing bad would ever happen, he sat in front of his door and promised he wouldn't let anyone in, he watched her fall asleep as he did the same.
And when she went to sleep, she wondered why she'd ever let him go, the shaking stopped, she relaxed, and went to sleep feeling safe and sound.

12/29/08 - Last Night

I Dreamt Of You Last Night

And in my dream you took me by the hand and sat me down. We were alone, and you began to speak, on your face I could see you were preparing yourself for something hard. You conversed with me a while, of the past, of the present, and you thought to yourself perhaps you should not tell me, but you did.
With your sweet voice you uttered to me words which gave me passage into your mind, and with that path you lead me into your soul. But those sweet words were tainted, and soon enough the grief on your face and in your heart took form and turned to weapons, weapons which attacked my very being.
You began to weep and the tears that emerged broke me free from my catatonic state, your apologies for your mistake would not sink into me, I could not bear to picture the words you threw at me. And so I too began to weep, in your mind all you wanted was my forgiveness and all you saw were my tears of sorrow for the pain you were feeling. But inside me a pain emerged also, not for you, but for me, because although words could not describe how horrible you felt for your actions, they could also not describe how horrible you hurt me with your news.
I dreamt Of You Last Night,
And In My Dream You Murdered My Soul.

12/19/08 - Wounds

To the one who got shot


He stood in front of her, waiting, willing to die. And the bullet
pierced his heart, in and out, and took her away from him. He lived. It
was his fault, he had not done all he could have, he blames himself.


Each night he relives it, the moment his life was destroyed, when she
was lost. The scar that formed over his heart reminds him each day. But
it isn't enough, as the years go by the pain increases.


365 days pass, and he awakes dull, the only night of the year when
nightmares don't haunt him. He gets up to her favorite breakfast, to the
scent of her favorite perfume, the memory of her favorite things.


He visits her favorite places, spends all day in the places she
cherished most, listens to her favorite songs. But things must be
remembered, so at night, when no one is watching, he walks into their
room, knife in hand, and lays on her side of the bed, he closes his eyes
and carves deep into the scar on his heart releasing warm sticky blood
all over himself.


His eyes open, then close again, he falls asleep to the nightmares,

counting down 365 days, when he must make himself remember again.

12/6/08 - Pain

Today I cut myself,
It hurt,
But along with the pain came an unexpected fascination. As I watched the blood slowly flow from my hand and make its way down through my fingers moving with the steady sureness of a flowing creek, it began to grow cold and numb due to the life source once familiar to it escaping onto the floor.
Bright red sticky fluid leaking onto the floor draining my arm of feeling, and yet something about it was hypnotic, so I cut myself again, and felt the wound burn for a moment before becoming numb and cold like before. As I slice into the other hand the pain becomes less intense, another cut, but it isn't enough.
I go to work, cutting away until the pain hurts no more, a pool of blood lies at my feet as my heart races, pounding furiously in my chest. Further up my arm I begin to cut, furiously slicing away at the pain within, trying to reach it, trying to replace it, trying to calm its fierce hold on my insides.
and then I stop, breathing hard looking down and around at the blood, spattered all around, dripping from my fingers onto the floor, staining my shirt, coveting my hair.
I take a step, and numbness floods my body, I feel my heart slowing down, I move to turn, and gravity commands me down, I hit the floor hard
Gazing into the ceiling, I feel my heart stop
And death brings darkness to my eyes