I love stone. Don't you?
We forget ourselves for
a moment when we stand
beneath
a mountain. A true experience
of a mountain makes us
feel small, which is right.
Because we are. But
we only forget for a moment,
really less than a minute, and
soon we cast about for a little
sharp-edged rock to carve our
names into the cliffside.

Once, a person lost
their faculty for emotion.
That turned out alright, though.
He wasn't ever sad.

But it was sad. It was tragic.
Because we listen to our
little voices, and grind our names
haphazardly into the rock,
and it's really very silly
to try to be immortal. Even mountains
know that. And we live
with these very silly
voices drumming all the time in our heads,
and we think that's us.

We think that those voices are us.

And that person? The tragedy
is, I don't know if he ever gets
to be corrected. Do mountains
interrupt him? To forget ourselves
for a moment beneath a mountain.
Does he ever get the chance to ask:
Why do we forget ourselves,
anyways? Who is it that made us pause?
The mountain? It didn't move.
Our little voices? Ha!

It's something else. Something powerful.
It shuts up your internal monologue,
and in those moments, you are at your
most agile, most eloquent, most true.
On stage. In a sport. When you read
a set of words that hold power to change
your life. Does it have a name? It has many.
"Soul" is only one of them.

And that person? Yes, it's sad.
But ask yourself this: you've seen
your mountains. They made you
step back. I know they did. There
was an instant that your little voices
were completely, utterly hushed.

That moment happens, and it's
entirely out of your control. The
next moment is truly up to you.

So what do you do? Take a picture?
Carve your name into a rock?

Together, let's paint our future in blood,
And intertwine our veins.

Why are you turning back?
I have you now; I'm not letting you go away.

Feel my knife etching my initials in your skin
And gaze at the marks from my bites.

A perfect doll for my collection,
You are forever mine.

I'm not one to associate with jealousy,
I just decapitate anyone who glimpses your way.

Now, now; no need to worry,
There's nothing physically wrong with my brain.

It's just that your tormented shrills just turn me on,
That I'm addicted to indulging in your soul.

The way your eyes represent an abyss of fear,
Your skin loses warmth and turns frigid cold;

And the flow of crimson rivers cascading down your flesh
When the pain is more than you can endure,

Makes me want to keep you in my chamber,
With your limbs chained to the floor.

Quite accustomed to misery and pain,
and in agony -
I ruin anything good,
it seems.

I don't know how to handle happiness.
It overwhelms me with its untimely visits.
Its stay, always short -
and our goodbyes bring me to my knees,
begging for it to stay.

So accustomed to melancholy -
and crying to sleep;
so spoiled with feelings of worthlessness -
I'm unappreciative of anything good,
it seems.

I don't know how to handle a genuine love.
It overwhelms me with its joyful sensation.
Its pleasure, the heart scorching romance;
and I, in my misery and pain,
and on my knees -
hoping for it to stay.

Quite accustomed to loneliness,
and emptiness -
I ruin anything good,
it seems.

You are you.
You care about the little things;
About money and status,
About love and power.
You care about right now.
And about nothing more
     But there is so much more to see.

Take a step back
Now you are human.
Your place in society is precious.
You, just as everyone else, are worth something .
You care about justice,
About the state of your world
And it hurts you
     But you know you suffer less than others.

Take another step back
You are a body.
Your presence is replaceable and unfelt.
Your days are spent seeking pleasure and pain.
You live only to feel alive
Knowing that you’ll soon be dust blowing in the wind
And it makes you feel temporary
     But you last longer than you know.

On your last step back
You are a soul.
You feel no pain nor pity- nothing at all
You live in sickly silent peace
As you float aimlessly through time.
You are a piece of the universe
Hoping that the clocks will stop some day
And you will be called to rest
     But your piece in this universe will never die.

You are so much more than your shell.
You are the past, the present and the future
Embodied in a distracted human being.
You are every fibre of the universe that has created you.
You are eternal yet temporary
And it’s confusingly simple
     But you won’t realize your worth unless you *step back.

This is what heartbreak looks like.

It is the soliloquies you wrote to him at midnight while crying

It is the formality a smile and the absence of warmth

It is the nausea and the ***** because this mornings breakfast just didn't have the heart to stay with you

He didn't either

This is what heartbreak sounds like.

Silence
Breaking
Static

This is what heartbreak feels like.

The burn of your concerned friends eyes into your back

The burn of the shame tinging your cheeks red

This is what heartbreak is.

You
Me
But not us

Never us

Little droplets of blood,
Like little sprinkles of rain
Sadness was like a flood
Only dammed by my pain
My roses had turned to ashes,
With petals made of glass
On my arms were gashes
As I waited for this feeling to pass
The world spun so fast,
Holding onto a knife
I was gazing at the past,
Unsure of my life
For you never know what tomorrow will bring,
If with sorrow you will cry or if with joy you will sing