Afraid of commitment,
If not for you, I'd never know what it truly means to be miserable..
Abused, I fight back
How could a father hurt his daughter while telling her she means more to him than the world? How can a baby be neglected by his mother?! How can a lover cheat with another!
At times like these it would be better to let the world stop turning, to breathe the last breath, to say the last word, to make the pain stop forever...?
A heart that hurts with every breath, a baby that stops its cries because mama isn’t coming, a love that dwindles, snuffed out, and dies.
At times like these wouldn’t it be better to end it all? If the world stop turning, if pain stopped hurting?!
A little girl grows up to resent her farther, a baby boy grows apart from a world he feels he isn’t a part of, a family is torn apart.
At times like these wouldn’t it be easier for the world to stop turning, easier to breath the last breath, to say the last word, wouldn’t it be easier for it all to be over?!
A women who is strong for herself and others, a family grows closer, stronger than ever before, a boy who knows the harsh truth about this world he lives in.
So it is asked again would pain stop hurting if the world stopped turning?
A fool I was to sleep at noon,
And wake when night is chilly
Beneath the comfortless cold moon;
A fool to pluck my rose too soon,
A fool to snap my lily.
My garden-plot I have not kept;
Faded and all-forsaken,
I weep as I have never wept:
Oh it was summer when I slept,
It's winter now I waken.
Talk what you please of future spring
And sun-warm'd sweet to-morrow:--
Stripp'd bare of hope and everything,
No more to laugh, no more to sing,
I sit alone with sorrow.
My Solitaire is irascible in aspect. Just over the Hill there; I used to carve my initial conditions into a blank stare, or a block of omission. But now my stratagems soar far beyond the pondering of Loneliness. Even Abandon cannot fathom Me.
I tend to orchids that have earthquake hearts and care for the waning moons in my terrarium of phantoms and glass apples. i anoint the chasm with vespers of Isolation that sparkle like a madness in phosphorus ecstasy. My books are Discreet.
I am their Shogan.