You know, I feel a bit useless now.
There’s this sort of numb pain…and I know that’s dumb - how can pain be numb? Yet there it is; pain in the numbness. A bit like drowning, I suppose. There’s just so much weight and tossing and tumultuous stirring and it just slices through you until you can’t feel anymore. And there’s pain in that. And there’s pain in the fact that I feel trapped. There’s pain in the fact that I couldn’t escape if I tried. And then there’s pain in the fact that I’ve learned I don’t want to escape.
I just want to sink.
You know, I feel a bit useless now.
There’s this sort of numb pain…and I know that’s dumb - how can pain be numb? Yet there it is; pain in the numbness. A bit like drowning, I suppose. There’s just so much weight and tossing and tumultuous stirring and it just slices through you until you can’t feel anymore. And there’s pain in that. And there’s pain in the fact that I feel trapped. There’s pain in the fact that I couldn’t escape if I tried. And then there’s pain in the fact that I’ve learned I don’t want to escape.
I just want to sink.
There sits a mirror
On her dresser,
Old and wooden.
It is carved.
There are roses all around it.
And it echoes the lenses of her eyes.
There are bruises on her face from
The quiet of the nighttime.
And she watches as they swell
Over time
She is slowly being dragged away.
I want to edit this a bit, but I’m not sure how yet. Anyway here’s a poem and stuff.
And there is something so intriguing in
The lines that connect the dots
Joint to joint
And the edges of your limbs
Like skin
Or heartstrings.
Taught, bearing a bit of weight,
They vibrate in rhythm
And the discord turns to music.
Molded out of clay, we come
And unraveling like thread, we are one.
(Source: uninspiredmusings)
Well, here we are again
In the same place as before.
And I can feel myself again
Dragged away from the shore.
Well, here we go again
Fighting the same old fight.
And I can feel myself again
Fading into night.
But I won’t let you win this time—
I’ll bring you down
In the first round.
Oh, there’s no looking back.
This time
My life
Is mine.
I have crumbled
Like an old brick wall
And my pieces have been scattered across the ground.
I was waiting for someone to rebuild me.
I met a mason
And he came along with new bricks and mortar,
To restore me like new.
But some things couldn’t be replaced.
My breaths are on the windowpane
I can feel the change in the wind
But I’ll be long gone before winter arrives.
Ghostly clouds float across the night sky.
There is a frost arriving.
Not the first of the season -
And most certainly not the last -
But it is sharper than before.
The ice pierces deeper
And the crystals on my window
Become cracks in the glass.
I have waited for the logs in the stove
To heat my heart.
They burned and the coals stirred the cold drafts in my home
But they have yet to warm me.
My breaths are on the windowpane.
You know when they take those really long exposure shots of the sky, and you can see the streaks as the earth spins? And it’s almost like rain, but instead of water it’s a shower of light piercing the dark. That’s how I feel when I look at you. When you’re by yourself you’re beautiful. Stunning, really. But as I watch time go on, when I catch a moment where I see you shooting across the sky - that’s when I realize you’re truly remarkable. I didn’t notice it before, but when I capture that, I realize how the Earth keeps turning and you are even more beautiful when time goes on.
Allow us to praise
What we have left standing,
Not reprimanding
What little we’ve done.
Let us become
One.
The soreness overtakes me,
I cannot stand
It
Anymore.
And so I’ll say goodbye.
