Monday, August 24, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
You put it all in a bottle, locked up in the cabinet on the highest shelf. The key has always been missing and can’t be found. That’s what you tell yourself. Long nights and short days the years pass away. Every deceased day is another reason you never leave but always stay. You want to be lost because you never want to be found. You would rather fall asleep to the cries of where are you then the sound of a loved one’s breathing. You can’t stay awake and all you seem to do is get wrapped around dark thoughts and dead dreaming. You would rather be crying then living. Sunrise and sunsets are never seen because you keep your eyes closed and opening them to a beautiful world is not what you chose. You would rather bleed then laugh, cry then smile, and hurt than heal. You let chemicals take you out of the moment and misery to bring you back into it. You don’t want to feel your body or mind and all you want is to forget. But memories are your currency and you buy more than you sell. You take more then you share and you tell your cut and bruised skin that every hit and every cut is a sign that no one cares. Loneliness is your blanket and your comfort and dark bedrooms with closed drapes is how you hide from a world you feel is made up of very little genuine and too much fake. You pretend that you are no longer scared and can no longer feel pain, that you are damaged beyond repair. Past your skin and bones is a soul that is growing old and worn and all you want to do is recollect and put your memories in a box to bury it and mourn. you would rather hide in a bottle that's floating away and you don't care if the waves crush you on the rocky shores or if it's just another day. just another day.