Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Axion Prelude May 2019
I hear it in your tone, I feel it in your eyes, I sense it in the cadence of your voice and breathe; I see what you think I can't, I know what you think I don't

You don't care

It's not a greater sense of uncaring for all things, but a lack of care for things that should be considered; and instead of finding a common ground, or using any reasonable sensibilities, you dismiss every bit of resistance to the insalubrious discontent you harbor through pure negligence, pride blinding you to the pleas of those around you

You stifle me

The disruptive, belittling nature of your distaste for anything objective has come at a cost; and now, I lie in limbo from your deflective soul: you never enraptured me, you never captured my heart like a true mother should; no ideal preface resides in my observations, but merely fact and law of emotion

You make me feel worthless

Introspect whispered into my mind, and it showed me a truth I never cared to know: you never even tried to capture my essence, my soul, my heart, or my love; you simply let things be as they were, and I was  merely incidental to your existence

You showed love in the most obscure fashion, but you never followed through; you never held any convictions to what you said, or with whatever you responded in times I needed you most

You're incapable of comprehending the implications of your words and actions

A ghost of a man, invisible to the world at large; ultimately haunted by his own reality - you showed me you could never care, because your only clause for dire intent are your intrinsic doubts for anything other than what you experience; your selfishness proceeds you, it condemns you, it mires you, and yet it's everyone else that are the only ones that feel the repercussions

You've never once said sorry to me

I know you'll never read this, but if I had one last chance to just convey the heavy-handed affects of your neglect, it would be: your actions, and inaction, stifle my own sense of care. You've left me in limbo, trying to understand how I should, or could feel about you; you've left me to question my love for one of the only people in my existence that I should be able to reliably known, for certain, love me all the same; you've garnered such abhorrent trends, traits, and habits that consistently, and constantly, rival everyone you come in contact with. The neglect has left my heart tainted, worried, and lonely; you've made me question where I stand, and where I can be.

You can't seem to understand how you're hurting people

That will live with me until you pass, and until the day I die as well. I'll never know what you truly felt, because you hide it under such a thick guise; a facade you've made out of what seems to be necessity, but mostly just arrogant dissonance.

You're not bad to people, but you're explicitly not good either

I don't know how to love you, anymore, because I don't comprehend how you love me. I don't know where I stand, I don't know where to be. I don't know where to go anymore with these feelings. I suffer through nostalgia for things I never had, and digress all intent to a lesser understanding of myself, for it. I suffocate near you, I want to weep yet cringe at doing so for not understanding whether you even deserve my pity, my remorse, my forgiveness, or my love.

I will never understand my own worth, to you

you were never bad to me, not directly, but you never were there for me in the ways I needed you most. you abandoned me, a long time ago, and I will never understand whether that's my fault, or strictly your own. My heart feels a sickness within it, one that makes my chest convulse; like nothing I've felt before. it's wrong, it's nothing, it's everything; it's impure, it's disdain. it's aching to feel anything at all, from you.

you hurt me, and you'll never comprehend, understand, or know why. Because of this, I know we will leave this world wholly apart, and I will never be able to come to terms with that; I will forever live with and inevitably die with that being my only reality

My soul feels sick
Axion Prelude Apr 2019
Silent pleas are meaningless in the face of overwhelming odds. The strength to move forward is not always as easy for some than others, yet the others who can afford such staunch accord seem to never comprehend how difficult a task it is to simply rise from bed.

The ones who see most seem to always be most blind to the qualms of those with such resonant concern for the pithy; even the innate ire of one begets the inherent ire of all.

Slowly, thoughts become tangible, changing from empty shadows to a festering aura. It leeches life from all things good and meaningful, and there begins the downfall.

Things which once were the epitome of joy - sometimes subtly, sometimes abruptly - become festering reminders of what once was; they sit rotting at the pit of a dissonant cacophony of sore misdirection, doubt, and unwavering fear, a solemn reminder of yesterday and everything which can not be had anymore.

Anger suffices where patience once stood watch over all interactions. In that brings suffering from doubt for all things said and done, all things come and gone, and all things not yet relevant, real, or existent. The agony builds in each passing moment, staggering and belittling; suffocation enduring, mired belligerent tones of sheer desolation sets the stage for a Grey, toneless perception.

Once stagnant, all fades away. Sounds echo broadly, profusely; words fall short in every regard; feeling stops existing, plight becomes numb: an emptiness no other void can retain or convey becomes standard, and the moment fades away becoming not one, but many. Becoming persistent, real, and the only thing true.

Emptiness suffices where a whole sum of love, experience, and joy once was. All things considered, nothing brings memory of such passions. Nothing breaks the void away. Nothing changes, nothing progresses.

Emptiness consumes everything, even rationality of resolution. All one can think of is escaping this nonsensical devouring void. But it's not possible, because nothing good exists here.

And the cycle repeats
Axion Prelude Mar 2019
I had a dream, I saw you there
You reached for me
I reached back

Your skin was cold as ice
Scared, you told me to awake
I opened my heart

I had awoken, but you weren't there
The dream is what kept me alive
I had a dream..
Be honest with people. Don't hide anything. Don't lead on, don't contrive meaning or intent.

Hearts break, emotions shut down; listless fortune settles into the crevices where once resided compassion, dreams, and hope for something good.

I am ashamed of how often I come to this place inside. It's a home, it's a prison; it never changes.

I trust too easily.
Axion Prelude Dec 2018
Stalwart shadows
Empty light eschewing darkness

This fog engulfs me
Doubt residing beneath my breath
No one fears, here
Nobody listens to silent screams

Contempt sets in
Emptiness guides dithered legacy
A shallow grave consumes the plight
Axion Prelude Oct 2018
Withering kiss belittles fate
Sultry, affluent, perfection lost
a damnation of intent
skewed by empty plight

endearing atrophy weaves no ties
cut from the crowd
whispers seeking place in time
Wreaking havoc upon sullen breadth

dreams disguise desire
the facade awakens every day
the ghostly touch of weightless hands
deliverance, mourning truth
each dream ached by sunder of hope
remiss of such light, I become mired

such calmness and good comes of the night
by day, there resides no such kindness by my side
I await, forever..
kindness means nothing to those who seek to gain for only themselves; the rest simply do not exist near me. Such desired gentleness goes unheard. I wish to have ever beheld a heart who seeks me on its own, before i go

my dreams lie to me, as if to convey what I need most would ever exist; mocking my will to go forward by sharing a taste of what seems, by now, will never be real
Axion Prelude Sep 2018
Alive, alone, derided through and through

You know you get me
But when I'm alone.. I become sane, again
troubled with the mess of realizing
reality isn't my forte, it's the dreams I live in
and the hopes I'm not given

Disdained, begetting songs of true fortune
You know it's crazy to think of anything before you
and even then, I realized I didn't have anything planned

I know you didn't want to see this coming
and neither did I
The silver linings are once in a lifetime
we get the chance to divine upon;
But there's never a greater time to behold except right very much now

I know you said you couldn't do it alone, but look at you now
stoic, yet holding your own
Tattered and barren but never too far from the hope we knew we needed
And it's a mystery why things never stay the same no matter how much
In the end everything seems to be
Invariably never changing

old habits dying with the wishes we had yesterday
But it's cool
I see you there and all I could ask of you is
Simply you

There's no defeat that is what we ultimately asked for
But I'll never presume what I have, what I want, what I know
It's all only what you care to choose
Your smile begets my own

By now, I feel, the notion has gotten a little overboard
the motion of it all being
Self defeating
Just as these words drip from my fingers
I can't stop seeing..

But they'll never change, unlike the rest..
And no, I'm not saying I'm anywhere **** near being the best
For you, or anyone
But what I can purvey is all the trust that's been given thus far
It's not natural unless it comes deep within our own hearts to convey
And I appreciate it, like cherishing a perfect day you can't forget

Because it came from somewhere knowing you well enough; deep down, among all the stricken dusty irony
Designed in purgatory, awaiting, sophisticated
the drudgery seems to fall away when we're just speaking at or especially with each other

But I still know, even in all of this, I am alone to think of such inspiring bliss
It comes off as moronic banter
Meaningless and disgusting just like the rest before me
But that's not me at all, and just maybe with time you'll get to know that best

You were afraid, then..
You'll be afraid tomorrow
and even then, I'll know never to impose
That's not what I want to do
That's not any sole truth
I just want to hear and know you're having a good day

All I could ever ask is simply you; and I'll be right here
Where we both fell in plight
Singing all the empty little things
We call life's, little, circumstances
Let's take chances, and leap into the unknown

For once, for good, for now; all spared meanings
Serving nothing and nobody proud, but rather still
Emotionless, soulless, deep and profoundly undertaken  
Shaken, wreaking havoc on their own flightless, droll, uncured soul

Sometimes we fall for the things we think are good for us
It echoes in the past as pain and regret
When, truthful, ironically
We tend to fall just trying to make a leap of faith on any first thing that brings us any hope to know "I'm okay" when in reality it's just false truths that bestow wrongdoing


And when something good actually happens upon our doorstep
The only way we seem to go is back, taken, breathless with deceit
Convinced what's here and now isn't anything that's good or worth our time
Irony seethes there, cold and barren
You never know, until you just know..
I'm talking about a true leap, in the right direction

Not desperate, or disparaging
Not profoundly meaningless or unshaken
Something bold enough to cover the scars and defeat with a kindness, a goodness, a righteousness strong enough to say
"hey, I think I'm going to be okay" and nothing more simple or complex as that

And if you want to get up and walk around, we'll so do I; and I could never want for more than to simply have the pleasure of spending that time together
Against all odds and defying all the redundant nuance

Derided, through and through.. Lost but never alone
Gone but never too far
And all I could every truly, simply, kind ask for is..
All that could ever be perceived as expected is everything that couldn't be thought of or imagined. The only thing we are capable of expecting is the utterly unexpected.

It'll never happen. Part of me isn't okay with that. Not through fear, or anger, but a resounding sadness knowing there's literally only one, and that will simply never exist elsewhere.

A quaint, smitten echo of somber defeat rings with every exhale.
Axion Prelude Sep 2018
fate befalls coarse dissonance
heartfelt plight, undoing thralls
stalwart cries beckon home
staunch hope redoubtably prevails
pithy, barren, crass, vile
Morose echoes, tinged denial
bemoaning daunting harrow

withered bridges surmise winter's defeat
water flowing effortlessly beneath
ineptitude solemnly secedes
decaying frost bereaves Sun's kiss
a new day.
Next page