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Oct 2014 · 325
I Read That I Loved You
derelictmemory Oct 2014
I can read a line in any book without thinking about you.

It could be saying something about windshield wipers
and I'd think about how everyday passes by as mundane
as that now that I don't have you to go on adventures with.

It could be saying something as a comparison between an apple and an orange
and I'd think about how you were always there for me,
always being the bruised apple on the pavement
so that I'd land softly and how if someone made you angry,
you'd burst like the orange splitting and imploding
from your hand holding it too tightly.

It could be talking about the disconnection between the ocean's movements
and the moon rising and I'd remember that even though we were drawn to each other,
you never reflected the same light in my eyes when I looked at you
as you looked at me which I realized and began pulling away again.

The line in the book could read,
"Then she tried to keep her balance but ended up falling off the fence."
and all I'd see written on the page are the words,
"I don't think I ever really loved you."

I could read any line in a book and it'll all still lead back to you.
derelictmemory Oct 2014
It was just like this.
Being without you was just like this.
Uttering that I hate you under my breath
and letting it carry through the wind
while my mind screams that I love you
Because on a late September night,
you held me like I belonged somewhere
besides the cracked sidewalk under
the tears of the moonlight.
And in an intelligible dream, you held me
like there was no other place and time
and state of existence you wanted to be.
Being without you was being reminded
of the times I was with you
when you didn't want to let go.
Being without you was knowing how it felt
to be a portion of a soul that was not mine
and walking about the next morning
with an arrow stuck in between the arteries
of my bruised heart.
Being without you was feeling you tell me
you loved me while you hand rested on
my thigh and living every night wishing
we had stayed a little longer.
Being without you was not being able
to tell the difference between reality
and a daydream because it was all real.
It was all real.
Being without you was being torn apart trying
to explain to my heart that your hands
never held it and that you never really wanted
to stay for longer than needed.
Being without you was hearing your voice
telling me you wanted a few minutes more
before you had to leave
and waking up to a cold bed
far too big for one.
Being without you was like being haunted
by phantom limbs trying to inflict their torture
of making my hands feel yours intertwined
with my fingers and feeling what it felt like
when you lowered your walls and let me have you -
or at least, a part of you.
Being without you was having a constant nagging
in my head telling me I should've kissed you.
I should've kissed you when you were close enough,
when you reached out for me and knowing that it's too late.
And it was just like this.
Being without you was just like this.
I think I love him. If even a little.
Oct 2014 · 513
Hedon
derelictmemory Oct 2014
So you stared at the hourglass and counted
For all that it was worth, for every grain that fell
What exactly are you trying to achieve?

Drunken nights and empty parlours
Bottomless glasses and dusted shelves
you look in the mirror and see what bloodshot eyes can see
blurred lines and skewed vision from your lack of depth and ability to perceive

You watch the clock make it’s way around once then again
More like you’re on a boat in the middle of the sea
lost at will and on course to the places you’ve never been
And the places you least wanted to be

Live inside the walls of your mind
They’ve carved you out so well you could be a pumpkin on All Hallows Eve
Everything that used to be a part of you was simply tossed out the window to feed the starving crows

I see that your heart is bleeding again but no amount of gauze will swallow the pain
You can stare at the mirror for hours trying to love the parts of you that you hate

But they’ll never see the rotten parts of you that you see so clearly

The walls are closing in again


Don’t lose hope


                               Don’t lose hope



                                                         ­      Don’t lose hope

(m.e.)
Oct 2014 · 357
.
derelictmemory Oct 2014
.
There are days when you can see specks of dust floating about like
iridescent thoughts in the twilight
When the diminutive magnifies the ranges of colour nestled
in between rays of visible light
And when moments are more infinite than tall tales of vague forevers

There are days when life is worth living and death
ought to be buried in order to grasp the fragmented concept of beauty
When ashes pave a way for beginnings and growth is
evident as more than just the days wearing down on your shoulders

There are the days when love floats and feels like the warmth
of a hearth on cold fingertips
When you know love, and love knows you.
Sep 2014 · 671
downtown memory lane
derelictmemory Sep 2014
Don't make love sound like wispy trees.
It's a bad commercial on a static age-old tv
on replay in the darkest corner of the apartment covered in cobwebs.
The stale air around it from keeping your windows shut
tight and the door locked with words stuffed in between its hinges.
Maybe love can warm ice cold hearts that have
frozen over from the heat of hypothermia.
Perhaps it has the ability to perpetuate that
painful kind of longing for a bed so small it doesn't
make you feel alone when you end your day staring blankly into the ceiling.
Many kinds of ghosts will haunt you in their wake
when you think that you could be safe.
But death and decay exist as ice cream flavours
in that abandoned parlor down on 79th street like
the broken frames you see in the alleyway still
holding flash-frozen memories of the distant past
and things that will never be again.
Walk down streets covered in dried leaves and
the stench of potpourri in the air reminding you
of a time with flare skirts and victorian columns.
You might feel the gazes on your neck in ounces
of gleeful displeasure and tantalizing advancements
but love is not always a lustful venture.
You've gotten used to the layer of dust enveloping your skin
and the celestial cocoon keeping you on the barren side
of the decaying hedge.
The whispers and groans from swings will tell you stories
of great loves and greater passions and you will quiver
underneath the weight of finding a love that fits you
the same way lakes drown in the midst of forests
Take a walk past the buildings erected from ideas of efficiency
and settle in a nest that breeds the quirkiest of all sounds
underneath a clear midnight sky
Let weeping willows hold you close and tangle your fingers
in languid bodies of water, unashamed and unafraid
Dust your bookcases and let the deep sighs of your floorboards speak.
Let the phone lines crackle and the panels heave.

(m.e.)
Sep 2014 · 819
The Question of Existing
derelictmemory Sep 2014
We are looking for reasons to look at each other
Like the rain wasn't already enough to incite our souls
Like the oceans weren't vast enough to make us question
"What exactly are you trying to avoid?"
"What exactly are you running from?"
And our need to find exact representations of what we are trying to say
when the weight of the darkness is heavy and the pressure in the air
like the tension in our lungs isn't already enough
Because describing the ocean without considering
rapid currents and forces pulling us in the direction
that drives us away from one another
Walking in silence trying to avoid the clump
in our throats when the nothingness of all things is aching
Reaching out but not searching hard enough
not looking at the longing like it's the only thing holding us together
"What exactly do you want?"
"What exactly are you trying to fight?"
When you're close to what you want and you're separated
by blistering tornados that want to blow you into smithereens
Like you hadn't already tried running only to realize
you were running from yourself and your secrets
Thinking that maybe you weren't trying to convince yourself
of things that you're not even sure you understand
Because understanding means letting go of
the things you never once believed until now could be yours
"Where exactly will you go?"
"What exactly do you want to see?"
And the exact measurements the seamstress
tried to tell you about burn your eyes
The stinging in your hands and the burning
of trees isn't going to reduce the danger factor
in looking for cracks in fine China
STOP RUNNING.
STOP RUNNING.
"Do you have anywhere to go?"
"Do you have anyone to run to?"

(m.e.)
Aug 2014 · 298
Hold On
derelictmemory Aug 2014
Your eyes are red,
I can tell it's gotten to you again
The weight of the world
The weight of her pain
The weight of your family

Spreading your arms
trying to take in as much as you can
The crippling words
The thundering cries
The heave of expectations

Your hands are shaking
it's hard to hold on to reality
Slipping in and out
Tripping over, falling under
Dragging around

Just hold on
I know it doesn't seem it'll be alright
But just
Hold on
Jul 2014 · 444
Misguided
derelictmemory Jul 2014
It was another blast from the past
And like they said a love like ours would never last
I've been turning stones over and looking under bridges
Searching for the answers to impossible decisions
You came into my life on a conveyor belt -
Casually walking past and taking the air with you
I was reaching for something else, anything else
Then I knocked you over the same way I did
A glass of red wine on the seventh date we went on
You once told me that coincidences never coincide with you
And I've repeatedly mumbled about fate and its misgivings
It was true -
I should have watched where I was going
Maybe if I did, I wouldn't have tripped and stumbled,
Fallen and tumbled, right in your way
You walked out of my life the way a feline presumes it owns all
With a sultry confidence that was almost mocking
At the same time, I couldn't help compare you
To his hands at 2 AM by the bay
And his lips locked on mine while we rolled about on an edge
You were crystal, and he was porcelaine with fine China
You were safe, and he was a wildcard with no limits
I pegged you as the marrying type
And him as a summer fling
You strolled over my already aching heartbeat but all I could think about
Was him.
I shouldn't have given you the satisfaction of
Serving me my favourite tea by a plate of scones
He was the one I wanted and I was the one you had to possess
I loved you
But I was in love with him
Jun 2014 · 306
Something about Dying Hope
derelictmemory Jun 2014
And I find myself looking for windows that show me something different,
something that drags light from lampposts and let's it seep into my soul.
Although I know that the hands that do so exist separately from my plane,
there's a glimmer, or rather a spark that starts a fire in the middle of the woods.
The smoke travels through my veins into the empty spaces in my mind and it
brings back a clarity within the cloud of reckless indecision forced upon me.
Where the simplest wisps of illusion create a reality that begins within a reality
while wide awake and knotted in creeping vines rooting me to an idea of oblivion.
And maybe that is what we search for amidst the pain of living in a Dreamer's domain;
Creation in the ashes of destruction the same way volcanic eruptions fertile soil
and the same way disasters bring us closer to love than the miracles ever will.
Perhaps the enigma of existence is simply breathing in the sulfur and knowing
without a doubt that life without something that can end it is as meaningless
as knowledge without an essence of beauty and passion to ignite a dying soul.
And you find yourself looking past window panes and opening doors leading
to the definition of nowhere to find an anchor to the limitless possibilities
when the only question that needs to be answered and the only answer to be found
is within the walls and intangible elasticity of an uncontrolled mind.

(m.e.)
Jun 2014 · 384
It's Time To Leave
derelictmemory Jun 2014
She sits against the wall every night

2:18 AM

“That’s a good time,” he once said.
Going over every lost moment and every out-of-reach laugh
Mentally comparing the feel of his hands to the roughness of dried concrete
And letting her mind wander in the middle
Of deserted parks with empty benches
Every once in a while, she’d gasp for air
Like she was drowning in her deepest thoughts
A cigarette in hand and a cold blanket of wind
She felt comfortable in corners
Said, having two walls support you the way a lover’s hands should

2:30 AM

“It’s time to leave,” she’d whisper.
Unmoving but eyes constantly searching the oblivion she was in
Hands shaking not from the drop in temperature
But from the emptiness of holding onto nothing
Closing her eyes to listen to the secrets between the rustling leaves
And the howling wind
Now and then she’d take a deep breath
The same way tourists savor their experiences

3:00 AM

“You’re not coming back,” a resounding thought.
Holding back the wracking sobs threatening to escape its confines
Like an animal in a rusting iron cage
Quakes travelling from fingertips to the emptiness in her chest
“You’ll forget,” they said.
And you do.
You forget the body heat, then the voices
Faces will begin to blur until they’re completely gone
And you’re left with a static memory
of the person that you lost to accidents and circumstance

4:00 AM

She leaves.
This is dedicated to the friend I lost to accidents and circumstance on June 7th last year and how it's four days to his birthday and I can't remember what his voice sounds like anymore.
Jun 2014 · 2.2k
Earthquakes
derelictmemory Jun 2014
I can't decide if earthquakes are caused by shifting rocks
Or if they are the result of the growing faultlines on my palms.
If the quake I feel is from jolts of energy formed due to the earth's crusts rubbing against each other
Or if the quakes are caused by the friction between my palms and my face
Perhaps earthquakes have nothing to do with the fact you left dragging your suitcase behind you
And perhaps it has no correlation with the rubber soles of my shoes and the cobblestone ground
Maybe earthquakes are screams of, "THIS IS TOO MUCH."
Maybe earthquakes are millions tremors whispering, "I can't take much more of this."
I've been struggling with differentiating equations involving inner shaking and outer breakdowns
But I have come to a conclusion that the probability of earthquakes existing within me is fairly close to one
And that the probability of earthquakes being caused by your hurt is possibly closer to one
Most days earthquakes begin from within -
The place where your hands used to cradle my heart is cold
And the ice is travelling from my arteries to my fingernails
Other days, earthquakes stem from the screams of the masses -
"You don't matter," they say, even though I am very much aware
That a flick of my finger could cause the collapse of a tower worlds away
I can hardly comprehend how sudden releases of pain can cause a rift in time and space
And sometimes earthquakes are the seizures that could keep someone alive and **** them at the same time.
21 June 2014
Jun 2014 · 850
Suicide Note #7
derelictmemory Jun 2014
Things are different and sometimes I wish I remained in the shelter labelled as The Indifferent where soap bubbles were as indestructible as bulletproof glass.
But you have a way of making me roll down my windows long enough to pass me nibblets of living and I wish you never reached your hand in to touch mine.
Safe houses aren't constructed to keep people out but deadbolts are in place to keep me in. I'd never advocate a limb to give me comfort;
your legs aren't strong enough to walk in this shambled home and your arms will burn before they can reach me.
I'm in the middle of flames that do not burn as strong as your eyes and I may not be a locksmith but I could very well create a lock that will keep you out.
I have a lead heart that's as fragile as the granite that define your sketches so don't you try to ring that doorbell because it won't open.
I find comfort in loneliness and solace in pain but you'll never change my mind about spring and how blooming flowers always close up from the world.
Morning Glory eyes that open with light and shut in darkness, you haven't been touched by the poison so let's keep you alive for as long as you are meant to live.
There's a difference between pessimism and realizing that the moon is as good as it gets so while you are safe, I will be as safe as dry wood in a bonfire.
I realize that pain is subjective and that iron walls are as needed as titanium souls but it doesn't stop me from being as frivolous as a dandelion.
Don't look at me like I hold treasures because I'm just a body of ashes and tears that is as significant to the eco system as a star that has burned out eons ago.
Remove me from your thoughts and eradicate every memory that acts as a landslide once I'm gone.
Your soul shines brighter with each passing day that I cease to matter.
And of all the words I've every said or written
remember that the most important is the poem about goodbyes and endless apologies.

I love you,
please forget me
and don't forgive me.
Jun 2014 · 331
What It Feels Like To Love
derelictmemory Jun 2014
Swerving cars
Heavy rain
Dead bolted doors
"This is insane."

Rough hands
Untouched skin
0101010 binary
"This might as well be a sin."

Bitten nails
Flimsy smiles
Real laughs
"I could get used to this for awhile."

A thousand miles
Empty hands
Bloodshot eyes
"I didn't plan for this to end."

Careless screams
3 AM drinks
Smoke-filled lungs
"****, I think I'm in love."
Jun 2014 · 289
I'd Be A Liar
derelictmemory Jun 2014
You steal my breath the same way you try to steal my soul
And while the nights are empty, your hands are far from cold
I've been waiting for a long time to look into your eyes
But I was wrong about the oceans you had trapped inside

Some girls talk about buzzing bees and raging hormones
But all I think about is the way you became infatuated with my words
I'd be a liar if I said yours didn't create an inviting discomfort
I'd be a liar if I claimed that I do not feel the safety you provide

There's been an unending storm at the bottom of my glass
And you had a knack for turning a hurricane into a drizzling pipe
I'm not the type of girl to fall for sweaters and scented candles
But I'd be a liar if I said you were a feat I could handle

The thought of making you smile fills me with a nagging dread
It's not a terrible thing but too mich has already been said
And I know that time exists in seconds and for once it's too soon
But I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't falling in love with you
This is just dangerous. Plain reckless and dangerous.
derelictmemory Jun 2014
My Mother once told me that the pain will burn your lies until all that you leave behind with every step you take
is the smoke of the cigarettes you once held dear but I was pathologically just imagining her saying things to me with her back turned and her eyes closed.
The soles of my shoes are as worn as my eyes when midday reaches its peak
and the last time she spoke to me it was only to tell me that she'd return the favour
by playing the games I never meant to put in place just to spite my severe apathy towards the ways of living in her world.
I'm still only a pebble on a stretch of sand I won't live long enough to see
and parallel lines that were perpendicular to the fragile vein of life were the only things I bothered to pay attention to
but she'll never know that.
I'm still the only ceramic mug on the shelf and eyes pass over me quicker than dust gathers on my shoulders.
I'll never be able to compare the flames in my lungs to the crackle of firewood of lost travellers
for the only blazes I start are the ones that dry my throat and leave my eyes bloodshot.
My Mother talks about love like it's the remedy to every illness but my Father's eyes gaze fleetingly at her soul
and she still claims that their love was the most powerful thing in the world.
Jun 2014 · 350
Untitled ( 7June2014)
derelictmemory Jun 2014
I've been told that we should never compare ourselves to things that we don't understand because the mystery behind our souls is an incomparable enigma that can only be unlocked by keys that we might never find since they're scattered in the hearts and minds of those we have never met and may never meet again. And while I've been lounging around some of the most controversial places in my mind, you've been losing yourself in your own without a thought as to how it would inadvertently carve itself into the walls I've tried to keep upright over the years but maybe, the walls I have are made of bamboo and you're a tornado I never saw coming and while I live nowhere near the ocean, I am shipwrecked and sending smoke signals screaming your name through the winds you've created in my otherwise weathered island in the midst of the Forgotten Ocean in between the avenues of corals you could have never imagined to experience the same way you experience each climb you take towards a heaven that isn't anywhere besides on the back of your hand which needs the warmth only forest fires can provide while simultaneously creating a greenhouse of the flowers I have never received as a parting gift from Mother Earth. The parcels that you send my way are lost amidst your thoughts and you've built a wall sturdier than mine with metal parts and concrete but I have always been a pavement artist that's been impartial to empty walls so I've been dedicating the hours I have left to making your home into a museum that could challenge the Louvre. Though I never said that my fingers were gifted to bring beauty and heartbreaking combinations of grays and blues so please accept my apology if I make a mess on the walls you might never be strong enough to see but know that my intentions are as pure as the pearls that are formed under the Dead Sea and that I will be the ghost of Christmas Past you will never have the displeasure to meet.
  
                                                                            (m.e.)
May 2014 · 352
How's She Been?
derelictmemory May 2014
You ran a question by me the other day
"I need to know," you said.
"How has she been?"
So I told you that

She's been chasing dreams;
Falling into streams
Of consciousness she never believed
She was capable of visualizing

She's been rushing her days;
"If I schedule this for then
It'd make time for that one thing
I planned way back when."

She's been skipping past ordeals;
Distraction and detachment
Were the few things that kept her
On her two feet to keep moving

She's been breathing too hard;
Taking in as much as she can
So she'll never be left to wonder
If it was just history repeating again

She's been smiling a little wider;
Though her eyes tell a different tale
That she isn't at all keen on sharing
She's just passing through

Just passing through
This is ****** but idk
May 2014 · 1.3k
Suicide Note #6: Goodbyes
derelictmemory May 2014
Sometimes I wish I was better at goodbyes. Maybe instead of saying, "See you tomorrow." I could've said, "See you as the seconds become too much of a forever for me to understand time."
Maybe if I was better at goodbyes, I wouldn't have to be so shocked to see you walk pace after pace to put distance in between my body and my heart.
Maybe if I was better at goodbyes, I wouldn't be filling up pages with hope and a loose grip trying to keep you in a place you don't want to be.
Maybe the entire matter of saying goodbye wouldn't be an issue if I followed every hello with a, "May you live long and well without me."
I've been wandering the unlit streets for so long that when a light begins to shine in the eternal night, I latch on to it like a leech latches on to scarlet filled bodies until I've burned out the light.
And I'm so terribly sorry for all the woes I've added to yours and I am forever in your debt; a debt I cannot repay with words or a life.
I'm sorry for the way my shadow casts out your light and the way my hands hold on for longer than you want them to but I've been alone for a long time and I overcompensate my loneliness with what you don't wish to give.
I live my life trying to repay my debts but I am neither oath bound nor promised to you. Nonetheless every drop of life I can give, I will give.
Every ounce of pain I can take, I will take.
And I will not love; for love is a luxury meant to those who deserve it and I don't.
The only goodbye I can muster is the whispers in the wind of the way I could've loved you and every wave of grief the ocean sends as an apology to the shore for leaving so abruptly.
A goodbye was expected and a goodbye will be given
A goodbye you will have to accept and a goodbye I have no choice but to give
For the leaves have long weathered its branches and a parasite is only living through the things it kills and I have killed.
I have killed my strength
I have killed my belief
I have killed my happiness
I have killed you
My limbs are not strong and my arms cannot hold you
My eyes are brimming with pain and I cannot translate unheard promises to you
My ears are covered and I cannot hear your pleas
All I know is the pain of goodbyes and it is all I can ever be
Maybe if I were better at letting myself fall into fierce torrents of water
Maybe if I were better at being a friend, a sister, a student, a daughter, a follower
Maybe if I deserved a sense of happiness and love
Maybe
Maybe then I could be saved
But I am not
And I'm afraid its too late to be saved
May 2014 · 487
Cracks In The Pavement
derelictmemory May 2014
I've been staring at the cracks in the pavement lately wondering if the spaces between here and there are as defined as jagged edges and overlooked trenches.
I was told once that we are woven entities and interconnected bodies of energy that have one way or another proven our worth through our discoloured eyes.
Perhaps we are just as vast as blackholes with no current destination but somehow we manage to take in what is placed in front of us without an understanding of what has become of it.
There are days when the only comparisons made are of the ocean and the sky as we forget that the soil beneath our toes has felt the most pain, the most love and seen the most bloodshed.
I was studying the cracks in the pavement the other day when I came across a thought that maybe my sight of the things I need is just as corrupt as the ground I walk on.
derelictmemory Apr 2014
The best kinds of inspiration comes when I'm 8 again
and I've hidden myself beneath a table clutching my teddy bear at midnight while
the lightning and rain told stories about the wars and pain that they've seen.

I grew to be 13 and I'd often cry
wondering why Daddy never came to say goodnight to me.
My pillows stained from years of tears.

When I was 16 I cried because the boy I thought I loved
didn't want to speak to me anymore and I never knew why.
All I could remember was that he smelled nice
and holding his hand felt as natural as the evening breeze.

The years weren't kind
and less could be said for the people I've met.
Many things terrified me
but the lightning and rain had always been constant company
especially during the sleepless nights.

I'm a little bit older now,
A little more broken and a little more worn
My mind is in tatters and my feet are covered in mud
My hands shiver but not from cold
And sometimes they say my eyes are flat and dead

The best kinds of inspiration come from tears now;
Some self-caused, others... just others.
The best kinds of inspiration live six feet under;
unmoving yet living somehow
The best kinds of inspiration make no sense;
A jumbled mess of screams and whispers
The best kinds of inspiration are alive;
Moving about heartlessly, more often than not, ignoring beauty

My only inspiration is locked away somewhere...
I dare not even think it to be real anymore
My only inspiration is in the winds at the apex of the night
My only inspiration rains sunlight when chills come to bite
My only inspiration...
It lives.
Somehow, someway
It lives.
I started this on 25 February 2014 and ended it on 28 April 2014
Feb 2014 · 520
Shorts #5: Forever
derelictmemory Feb 2014
I suppose you could say I was a silly girl who liked to believe in romantic notions like the concept of a forever
And perhaps that is the way things should be - having faith in impossible things - but every forever could differ
I've known forevers that only lasted when I was looking into your eyes for only a second
and forevers that carried my heart next to yours for so many lifetimes over
I've seen forevers that lasted between the time he fell in love with her and she walked out of love with him
Maybe it's the child-like tendency to believe more in so much less
Perhaps it's the hope that one day forever will be more than just a word that meant our time together
Or I could just be a silly girl who believed in precarious notions of romance in an unromantic world.
I've had this in my drafts collecting virtual dust for ages, I thought maybe it was time I shared it.
Feb 2014 · 677
Things I Want
derelictmemory Feb 2014
I want that lampshade in the corner to cast away the ghosts by my side
I want your hand to be intertwined with mine at every possible point of time
I want to feel like the waves day and night with rising tides
I want to hold that photograph that captures you in the perfect light always
I want to have that imperfect love when everything is simply perfection
I want the winds to blow through my hair like I'm as carefree as it is
I want to expunge the tornados and hurricanes trapped under my skin
I want to be held like preserved fragile parchments from ancient oaks
I want to be taken like a possesion while being loved like an enthralled being
I want to feel the confidence of the flames in your eyes that still burn
I want to see the swirl of the myriad of colours labelled by digits undefined
I want to live and breathe like hummingbirds in the forest
I want to be wild and in danger; constantly threatened and protected
But most of all
I want you to find me
To cut through every hedge
that stands in between us
Find me

(m.e.)
Jan 2014 · 461
Life In The Eyes Of My Own
derelictmemory Jan 2014
More often than not I find myself looking through space like there's something there for me to reach for
But you see ghosts are just the dead trying to fit their way back into our lives when they no longer can
And whispers only travel so far before they become hush hums in the winds you blow
I'd give anything to be able to share it with you and have you see past what you let yourself believe
But dandelions fly too far sometimes and they don't really ever find their way back even on the expressway
I only really wear the bracelets I bought to hide the secret lines I write at 3am on the bathroom floor
And you don't watch or look out for the silent flinches when someone grabs my forearm
Neither do you question the tearstains on my pillow when you come over never
So when I'm reaching into the vast amount of nothingness for something to keep me from breaking
I hardly ever come across anything that will help because you can hardly mend broken things that are still cracking at the edges and crumbling into dust
Jan 2014 · 719
A Look Into My Mind
derelictmemory Jan 2014
I don't know.
Nothing is certain and nothing can truly be solidified into a completely defined being
because the words escape me and things can be as indescribable
as your eyes and the way your hand fits with mine
But perhaps I'm dreaming
and the reality I believe I'm living is just another trick
I have let myself fall for and the only things that are truly real
are the things that are not.
Much similar to the way i wish I could scream out loud
but I force it back down my throat so it only reverberates within my used lungs.
If I implode within myself
and it is reflected on the outside of me
would that mean I have exploded or
would it mean i've finally reached a point in my life where I am what I feel
in which case I am nothing if I feel nothing
and I am everything in the sense that nothingness is what everything believes it is.
Would you kindly hold my hand and direct me to the place where we could finally find
what we've been wanting for for so long or can you only point me the  wrong way
and wish i find it in my own time by my own means.
Does forever truly exist?
Or is it another trick we let ourselves believe so that the fairytales
we see have a possibility in becoming real forever?
What if the great poets only existed in the times
we believe to have fought dragons
and the only poetic things left to say are the thoughts
great poets left unsaid and the things great poets have said
only resonated into their minds from the poetry of the earth
we've begun to destroy in our midst of finding civilisation
only through barbaric means?
And what if the only thing that could cure the restlessness in my mind
was your fingers intertwined with mine
to signify another unthought stanza of love
and your kisses would burn my skin into a salvation
I could have never dreamed of having?

(m.e.)
Jan 2014 · 603
Home
derelictmemory Jan 2014
Pictured frames and broken glass
Everything just happened so fast
Coloured pens and shattered lights
How do you manage to sleep at night?

Empty bottles of tablets and pills
What happened to strong will?
Open doors and replayed songs
It all just lasted so long

Cracked at the edges, torn at the seams
What would it take for you to hear the silent screams?
Plastic smiles and broken homes
I don't want to be alone
Jan 2014 · 761
Save me
derelictmemory Jan 2014
Handcuffed and driven out
Taken and still breaking down
Help me
Help me
Help me

A burden on your shoulders
A boulder on my own
Save me
Save me
Save me

My head is down
And you wear that crown
Leave me
Leave me
Leave me

Lashes and sinister words
Left hanging and eating dirt
Please
Please
Please

Pressured and boxed up
Leave me in the dark
Awake and alone all night

Save me
I just... I don't want to be left alone with you. Please someone... anyone... save me.
Jan 2014 · 950
True Love
derelictmemory Jan 2014
You're like a breath of fresh air
After living in a busy city
Your touch is smoother
That the finest silk I've seen

I could memorise every contour
Every scar                                                            
Every imperfection                                          
that makes you as real                    
and wonderful as you are
And that would never be enough

You're like water washing over me                  
After a day of hard labour                          
Like watching a beautiful sunset                    
After a rough day at work                          
And catching every fallen star    
So that they can live again

Something as simple                                                      
As the way our eyes meet    
And the world melts away  
As we lift the tips of our lips

And the moment our hands touch                            
And intertwine
That was the moment I knew                                    
I wanted for you to always be mine

Like I had an extension of my soul
And it was an overwhelming feeling
To know so well that after so long

This love                                            
This happiness                        
was truly meant to be
Jan 2014 · 727
Forgiving and Forgetting
derelictmemory Jan 2014
To this day
I have lived 18 years and approximately
8 months
To this day
I have seen you live a separate life for as long
As 10 years and 8 months

To this day
I still remember that first time
I put on a shoe with wheels
I still remember being too short
To reach the freezer

I still remember crying
Because I was shouted at
I still remember crying
Because you hit me
I still remember crying
Because my neck hit the corner of the mini fridge

To this day
I don't recall an apology
I don't recall any form of redemption
I only remember you leaving
You packed up and left
You left

So forgive me
Had I been misled
But you left

Forgive me
For I had tried to forgive you
But I find you neither want it
Nor do you deserve it

Forgive me
For not being able to forget
For not wanting to know you
For feeling nothing
but a fleeting
sense
of
abandonment
Every time I see you

Forgive me
For being unable to put the past
Into a dark corner behind me
And for holding this against you

I had hoped that perhaps
I would finally forgive you
But it seems like
All you do
Is prove
That
You do not care
For trivial things
Like hurting your child
Emotionally, Mentally
Physically

Forever
And almost
Always
Dated: 22/12/2013
Jan 2014 · 680
Questions of Mysteries
derelictmemory Jan 2014
The mysteries of life were carved in every endearing kiss, every searing touch and every silent love that you will never have the chance to know.

And try as you may any possible solutions you can think of will fall into the crevices of the earth forever lost and once again, as are you.

All sorts of methods have been tried and tested except for those that force you to allow a more intimate exploration of yourself and others around you.

The questions in your mind would only be answered through a passionate exchange of first glances and a mediocre array of exchanged words.

Living is such a trivial thing when you lack the balance and stand on the edge of silly things while succumbing to the vertigo of all that is unknown.

And you toss and you turn in search for answers of questions even you do not know and you crave to sate the curiousity of your mind only to find yourself facing yet another obstacle.

Madness is not a sickness nor is it a state of mind; Madness is the way everything seems when you start to question the mysteries of life.
Dated: 29/12/2013
Jan 2014 · 395
Shorts #4
derelictmemory Jan 2014
I just really miss you.
Whoever you are.
I've spent days feeling alone
And nights feeling incomplete
Like gaping craters fill my heart
And waves of uneasiness consume my abdomen
And the unrelenting sadness in my mind
Like my hands are empty
And I haven't got a grip
I just really miss you.
Whoever you are.
Find me soon.
Dec 2013 · 790
Suicide Note #5
derelictmemory Dec 2013
You'd forget me even before I die
But that's okay
At least at my wake you won't cry
If you ever find out about it
That is

I'll be "That Girl I Once Knew" to you
And that's just fine
Though I wish I had the chance to call you mine
Before I died

You once mirrored my happiness
But that ended soon enough
It's alright that I'm dead
Life's been rough

I hope you live a long happy life
You deserve one
Don't ever think of me again
Not even just once
Dec 2013 · 2.8k
Dear Prince Charming
derelictmemory Dec 2013
Dear Prince Charming;
          Today is the first time I've heard of you!
          I'm so excited for the day you'll find me
          Then we'll live happy-tedly ever after!

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today is my nine-eth birthday
          I hope I get you next year!
          Then I'll have someone real to play with

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today is a scary day
          Daddy isn't smiling at Mommy
          You have to promise
          to always smile at me okay?

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today it's been 4 years since I first heard of you
          Mom and Dad aren't speaking anymore
          I need a friend

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today Dad left the house
          I can hear Mom crying in her room
          Don't ever leave me okay?

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today I found out that my friends hate me
          You won't hate me right?
          They said I'm fat and an orphan

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today the kids at school tripped me
          I suppose accidents happen
          When will you be here?

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today I wore a long sleeved shirt to school
          No, don't worry, it isn't cold here
          The kids at school hate me

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today is my 16th birthday
          Will you be here soon?
          I think I need a friend

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today Mom and Dad are finalizing their divorce
          You won't give up on me,
          Will you?

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today I'm staying with Dad
          He has a special friend over
          Don't forget to come find me

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today I've been told that you won't find me
          That's not true right?
          It's very lonely

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today I slept through school
          I just couldn't find a reason to get up
          Reach here soon

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today is already tomorrow because it's midnight
          If you're close by please let me know
          I need you

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today I know you're not real
          But I wish you were
          Who else would love me in this cruel world?

Dear Prince Charming;
          It's 2am and everything is looking darker than before
          I can't stop crying
          Please be real

Dear Prince Charming;
          I don't know who you are
          I don't know if you exist
          But I love you

Dear Prince Charming;
          I couldn't wait for you anymore
          So I hooked up with the guy next door
          I don't like him

Dear Prince Charming;
          I'm still wearing long sleeved shirts
          The mirrors are broken
          I need you

Dear Prince Charming;
          Today is my 18th birthday
          I'm sorry
          You need to find a new princess to love
Dec 2013 · 595
Shorts #3
derelictmemory Dec 2013
I thought of pale moonlight and dying stars, water lilies and flowers on mars.
Beautiful wastelands and breathtaking waves. But nothing could completely describe the rays you emit.
I've seen a thousand sunsets and a thousand deaths, a thousand wonders and ghosts in unrest.
Emptied lakes and overfilled oceans. But nothing could make my day like your smiling eyes.
Dec 2013 · 507
Glass
derelictmemory Dec 2013
It was that glass bowl
You could look out at the world
But never really see it

It was that glass trap
You could be so aware
But so unaware at the same time

It was that glass window
You were trapped behind
Always only watching

It was that glass ceiling
That kept you where you are
And experience so little

It was that glass wall
That made sure you were separated
But how you yearned to be a part of it all

But the desires you had
Only managed to form cracks
Until a pair of outside eyes
Caught you in sight
Until a pair of hands
Tried to push against the glass
That caged you from the world

Your eyes were filled with wonder
And the stranger countered that feeling
Your hands were curious
How would it feel to touch another?

Stranger things have happened
Or so you've seen
And you hold on to the hope
That one day you'll be free
Dec 2013 · 1.4k
The Mural
derelictmemory Dec 2013
They say a picture is worth a thousand words and I'm looking to make murals in your likeness
Something that would reflect how truly beautiful your soul is to me

Maybe a watercolour based painting or would pastel-coloured chalk do?

Should I focus on the brightest hues and play down darker tones?
                                                          ­           But your darker side is the part of you I love most.

Let's play with the lighting;
                                               shadows and rays make one more aware

I'd love to create a backdrop, possibly a place you feel most vulnerable and bared
                             The limitless possibilities, the mediums and the inspiration you bring me

Perhaps barring your soul is a tad too blasé?
               Let's dig deeper and find something more suitable for your mural

                                                          ­                                                                 ­        How about an impression?
                                                     ­                                                                 ­                     How I feel about you?

Oh my, that is personal...
                                                     ­   yet entirely too brilliant to ignore!

I could just go on and make a mural that much clearly expresses how I feel about you
The way you talk, the way you walk;

                                                          ­      That particular smile and glint in your eyes
                                                            ­              when something intrigues you
                                                             ­                 and you're up to no good.


Ah, the marvelous mystery I have yet to uncover that is you!
                                                            ­         But the fun is no doubt in trying to capture your essence

Ah, here I go prattling on and on about mysteries and emotions,
I'll get to work and I'll set up my drafts and display them to you...
                                                          ­                The Mural will be breathtaking.

but of course, not as fascinating as you.
Devlin Andrew Harris inspired this piece of writing with the very first line.
"They say a picture is worth a thousand words and I'm looking to make murals in your likeness"
I hope I did it justice.
Dec 2013 · 408
Shorts #2
derelictmemory Dec 2013
There is no greater love story
Than one that eneded before it began
With a love so real and unprepared

There is no greater tragedy
Than one that was planned by the trusted
With a deciet that was unimaginably deep-rooted

It goes unparalleled
How everything fits in it's designated place
And yet be so wrongly used in it's space

It goes unquestioned
How we deem our mundane lives to be
But we never recognize the need for change
In the place of our own spite
Dec 2013 · 516
Shorts #1
derelictmemory Dec 2013
You would be the one thing
That could make my somgbirds sing
And erase all the misery in this heart
With one simple touch

But I would not allow it
Such an act holds unknown possibilities
And that could hurt you in a multitude of ways
I'd much rather die than live to see those days
Dec 2013 · 785
You Won't Want Me
derelictmemory Dec 2013
You won't want me at 5am when I'm crying because I want to fall asleep and not wake up later that day.

You won't want me at 6am when I'm silent and unmoving because I can't bear to acknowledge that I'm alive.

You won't want me at 7am when my breathing is shallow but my mind is screaming at me in my dreams.

You won't want me at 2pm when I am awake but not wanting to leave the sanctity of my bed.

You won't want me at 4pm when I finally convince myself the day has to start.

You won't want me at 7pm when I'm ready for it all to end.

You won't want me at 9pm when I lay in my bed making up stanzas of words for life to make sense.

You won't want me at 11pm when the loneliness has such a firm hold on me I feel suffocated.

You won't want me at 1am when the tears start to fall as I think of how much I can't stand myself.

You won't want me at 3am when my chest tightens and my heart is heavy while I miss someone who doesn't exist.

And again at 5am, the tears start to fall and I can't stand the pain anymore so I realize it in the form of lines on myself.

You won't want me.

Not now.

Not later.



Not ever.
Dec 2013 · 599
An Eternity
derelictmemory Dec 2013
I dream of having you as mine
I dream of claiming your lips under light
I dream of having each touch of yours
I dream of searing the memory of you in my mind
I dream of having spent a day with only you
I dream of creating a life with you

But these dreams are mine
       And these dreams are fictional
       They will not come true

You will not be mine
        I will not have you
        And life as I know it
                Will always have the upperhand

I will be deprived of your touch
                                 Starved of your taste
                          Blinded by the sight of nothingness
             And I will shed tears like no other

                                     As they rip you from my soul
                               Just so they can feel the anguish
                                          The pain
   The darkness
                                                                           The loneliness
                     And the suffering

That only comes from living in a world

Devoid of you

              Devoid of your smile
                    Devoid of your laugh
                           Devoid of your warmth
                                  Devoid of your heartbeat

And as you die
                             I will die
As will I live
                         And only spend my days
                         All my remaining hours


                                   Loving you


                                                                       And only you


For the ****** only have that
       The ****** have nothing else
                                         But the love they once had
                    And the memories that they keep

But eventually
                           That will be forgotten
                                                 The emotions will run dry

And I would have spent an eternity
      

                            In absolute nothingness
Dec 2013 · 951
Anonymity
derelictmemory Dec 2013
We hid our secrets in between words
We say what we mean and yet
We do not mean the things we say
As we trot about language like s passing fancy

We use anagrams to encode our mysteries
And the only clue we provide blends
In plain sight as we search for the details
And we lose the big picture

And that being said, we cloak ourselves
In the name of anonymity we disguise ourselves
Behind pen names and question marks,
"Who are they? What are their secrets?"

Often mistaking privacy and misdirection
As a magic and an illusion
When it is plain to see that we prefer not to be
As they have deemed

In the name of anonymity
We hide our faces behind reflective illustrations
Behind cleverly placed nouns, verbs and fanciful phrases
As our words are shared and our names are spared
I'm not quite sure about the origins of this poem but I suppose it has to do with my hidden name and origin.
Dec 2013 · 1.3k
Vertigo
derelictmemory Dec 2013
Take the stake and break my skin, guaranteed your hands will get covered in sin
For God's sake we're in this lake of blood but we aren't getting any younger,
look at how childish we've been

Twisted games and wandering ghouls, how quick we are to sell our souls
Lost and searching, grieving and wailing
The Great Perhaps may be our downfall

But may the scars litter the places you've touched
We're older, none the wiser and still we do not amount to much
Steal and cheat, we break our vows

To make something of what we had when we left town
Mystical dreams and whimsical fancies, we let ourselves rot to the tales
A dance with Death and burnt flesh, we sacrifice only to burn in hell.

Able minded fables with opposable thumbs, writing how we wanted things to be
On the picket fence like it's a clock, it's become my job to leave the decision to you

But I'm  done following footsteps that have become too big for my soul
Let me slip back into my cocoon until I remember, again, how it feels to fly on my own

A multitude of voices trying to influence my choices
Making notes of what they deem to be right and wrong
And by Royal Decree, they deem themselves as the most supreme
To have sights on only one road and forgetting of the others that are at their disposal

And my mind takes it in like a dry sponge over water
Overloading, always screaming
And it drives me into myself again, just further
Learning to let go of the only thing keeping a firm hold of reality to finally being free

Crack open the crevices of my chest
And let my soul be freed of the binding hands
Holding it back from what it seeks
A never-ending spiral of vertigo
A collaboration with Devlin Andrew Harris.
Dec 2013 · 490
Suicide Note #4
derelictmemory Dec 2013
To whomever who may be reading this,

I've heard that sometimes sadness can't be explained.
Sometimes the reason it's there is because it just is.
The same way that when someone asks you why you're okay, you say you just are.
And why you simply accept that colours exist because they just do.

Like how if you were to ask that boy at that school on New Years' Day why he loved that girl he could prattle on about her pros and cons but fact of the matter is that it was just her. And she was just everything he could ever hope for in that moment.

And that is how I'd like you to explain my death.


                                                                                        It just happened.


I came home that day and I just felt immensely dissatisfied with my existence.
So I carved my arms and wore my favourite dress only to stain it with blood.
Then I took those sleeping pills I bought of that kid by the alleyway and swallowed them all.

It wasn't your fault, Mom.
                                             You thought I was strong enough.
It wasn't your fault, Dad.
                                           I just didn't believe anymore.

To my brothers and sisters and aunts and cousins,
                                                                                     none of you would've seen it coming.

It's none of your faults. It's mine.

                                                         And I know I'm going straight to hell but I deserve to burn for my sins.



Goodbye.
Dec 2013 · 922
Trying To Explain Why
derelictmemory Dec 2013
I could try every possible way to justify my sadness to you.
But it still wouldn't make sense because the only way anyone who doesn't already feel this way can see it is, as
              attention-seeking.

No combination of 26 letters is gonna be able to encompass it.
And I could tell you how I'm feeling

but sad is really mild.

You have no idea  how it feels to simply be walking home then suddenly start hating yourself and knowing that
                         this is it
                                        this is how it is
                                                                    and nothing
                                                                                              is gonna change that.

You won't be able to comprehend how much misdirected hate there is everywhere when in actuality it's an individual causing it.
And I know you believe that I'm driving myself into this state because you believe I feel unloved or unappreciated... but it runs so much deeper. So so much deeper.

It's like...
                not feeling safe and comfortable within yourself
                It's like...
                                looking out of a tiny hole in a box because you're not like the other kids
                                You see things differently but you try.
                                                                                   You try to fit in.
                                                                                   You try to smile
                                                                                                               and be happy
                                                                                                                                       and laugh
                                                           and find joy in the littlest things.

        And yet, it isn't real.
                                                           It's all forced because you have to try, to feel that way.

                                        For most people it comes naturally.

Trying to explain to you why I feel the way I feel, could end up to be a string of gibberish lined up to sound nice but
                             at the end of the day it's really simple:
                                                                                                                       I hate myself

                                    I know I shouldn't and I know
                                    I'm not a killer or a ****** or a
                                    thief... but I hate myself.


                                                                                                      And that is it.
I wanted to send this to a friend in answer to a question of why I was so sad but I couldn't bring myself to send it. So here it is.
derelictmemory Dec 2013
The way your fingertips dance
Over my dry skin
And the way your lips demand
For more than a chaste kiss
It was how your eyes did nothing
To search for my soul
And how you whispered sweet nothings
Through a device so cold
But that warmth you give me
When your arm is wrapped around my body
And the way your laugh and smile
soothe my aching heart
and lift the sadness for awhile
The comfort and safety
You often provide
And my inability to lie
Even through that cold device
I hold you up so high
I just wish you could do the same
But I do not love
The way you say my name
The way you close your eyes
The way you pull away from me
No one is perfect
That I concede
But I often question,
"Why would you waste you time
with a girl like me?"
Answers were not your forte
You were the opposite of romantic cliches
I could pour my heart to you
And still you would ignore
Everything but your need
to constantly explore
The parts of me you could see
And not the ones I would let you reach
But it is enough for you
And that I would construe
And I will wait
And keep waiting
Though I know it could never be
For why would you waste your time
with a girl like me

(m.e.)
Nov 2013 · 384
It Was In The Way
derelictmemory Nov 2013
It was in the way
you made me feel special
Then ran away

It was in the way
you told me my eyes sparkled
While they were dead

It was in the way
you tried to stand by me
But gave up halfway

It was in the way
I was a failure at making you happy
That made you leave me

It was in the way
you never truly left me
But you never actually stayed

It was in the way
I asked you if you loved me
With tears in my eyes

It was in the way
you pretended I had not asked you
A single questioned and walked away

It was in that way
That I understood
That no one could love somebody like me
derelictmemory Nov 2013
You are so confined
by what you want them to think of you
So caught
in the invisible web they've spun
That you don't realize you're hurting people
You're hurting  souls
Just to prove that they should accept you

You are so consumed
by your quest to be better than the rest
that you don't see it
You don't see that you're forcing a  wedge
in between yourself and the person that supported you

And that person is drowning
in thoughts
in words
in blood
but you don't even notice
You don't even blink an eye
as your daughter drowns
right in front of you
Nov 2013 · 644
Bleed
derelictmemory Nov 2013
Sometimes you just want to watch yourself bleed
And then you realise that you are already bleeding
But the thing that's flowing isn't blood
It's pain
Not flowing from your veins
But from every single pore of your being
And there's no way to stop that bleeding
Because it bleeds from more than just the outside
But the inside too
More specifically, your heart and your mind
And sometimes even within the intangible confines of your soul
So you pick up that razor
And you try to make the bleeding real
Because that way you can stop it
That way it's tangible
That way you can see it
Nov 2013 · 322
A Moment
derelictmemory Nov 2013
And we're just us
That was a moment of peace
We were infinite
And no one could ruin it

In that moment
When you didn't care for my age
Or the awkward way I dress
When you looked at me
Like I was the most amazing thing you've ever seen

In that moment
When I was your whole world
And you were my universe
But it had to end

Like all things eventually do
But I'll always remember
Those 90 seconds
When I truly had you
Oct 2013 · 449
I Wouldn't Dare
derelictmemory Oct 2013
I wouldn't dare to let you look into my eyes
For the secrets I hide and the lies I trust
Are fragile in my current state of mind

I wouldn't dare to let you sneak a peak at my soul
For it is broken and no longer whole
As I scramble to preserve all that is left of me

I wouldn't dare to let you have a hold on me
For I could never truly stay
The moment you get too close I back away and start to leave

I wouldn't dare to let you know how I truly feel
For my emotions would be my undoing
And my carefully woven threads are already loose

I wouldn't dare to let you step so close to me
For I wouldn't be able to stop myself
From keeping you close to me and never letting go

I wouldn't dare to let you into my heart
For I know that if I even begin to, I wouldn't stop
and I would let myself love you
So completely
So deeply
*For all time
Oct 2013 · 522
How You Make Me Feel
derelictmemory Oct 2013
I've caught you in my lungs
Like a bug flitting about
With no rhyme or reason
But a hell lot of doubt

This constricting in my chest
I'm unsure of just how
You've managed to steal
And hold onto my breath

A constant shiver through me
Whether it remains to be nerves
Or unweilding need
For me to have you around

And how you make me  feel
Is unquestionable
Yet impressionable
On all the things I have touched
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