Feb 2014
Sitting outside at 3am and nothing reflects the corners of my mind more accurately than the dead of the night and the rain on this page.
No sound but that of others living their lives; sleeping through their dreams whilst I'm here wondering what mine really are.
The ash on my cigarette burning to my fingertips as I run away with the thoughts of what could have been.
The heat of the tea that I'm drinking burning me right down to my stomach just as your words do to my mind when Ieast expect it, when inside I'm so cold.
And you shock me.
You shock my system and I start to crack.
You never cease to amaze me.
Never cease to amaze me.
And where will I go from here?
My hands are exhausted with each stroke of the pen as each line I write is just a recurring thought that has already been discussed, analysed and evaluated.
The colder it gets the more comfortable I feel.
The more at home I am.
And it's sad.
It's so sad.
I look up at the sky and the clouds are a gentle reminder that maybe I'll never see the stars again.
This place is so dark but the light seems so foreign to me.
Life is so foreign to me.
And towards death I am drawn.
I wonder how am I still here.
But I am.
And there must be a reason greater than this realisation.
The rain never stops falling but the grass never stops growing.
And without suffering there would be no compassion.
Maybe I feel this way so that you don't have to.
Balance.
I fight the lows by getting high.
I used to embrace the lows just to feel.
I don't want to feel anymore.
Can you feel this?
Sit here with me.
Join me.
Read my eyes as the rain clouds them.
Read these words as my tears drown them.
And what do I have left to share with you but the reality of this hell on earth that we must endure just to make it to the other side in the hope of something better.
But is there something better?
And do I want to risk it?
Stay here in this moment hoping daylight never comes or risk the morning sunlight and the hope that things will change.
The heat as it burns through the truth of who I am.
What I am.
But daylight always comes and nobody feels content all of the time.
And the daylight will fall upon me and I'll just want to sleep.
Because I can't stand the hours knowing it's not where I'm supposed to be.
No sound but that of others living their lives; sleeping through their dreams whilst I'm here wondering what mine really are.
The ash on my cigarette burning to my fingertips as I run away with the thoughts of what could have been.
The heat of the tea that I'm drinking burning me right down to my stomach just as your words do to my mind when Ieast expect it, when inside I'm so cold.
And you shock me.
You shock my system and I start to crack.
You never cease to amaze me.
Never cease to amaze me.
And where will I go from here?
My hands are exhausted with each stroke of the pen as each line I write is just a recurring thought that has already been discussed, analysed and evaluated.
The colder it gets the more comfortable I feel.
The more at home I am.
And it's sad.
It's so sad.
I look up at the sky and the clouds are a gentle reminder that maybe I'll never see the stars again.
This place is so dark but the light seems so foreign to me.
Life is so foreign to me.
And towards death I am drawn.
I wonder how am I still here.
But I am.
And there must be a reason greater than this realisation.
The rain never stops falling but the grass never stops growing.
And without suffering there would be no compassion.
Maybe I feel this way so that you don't have to.
Balance.
I fight the lows by getting high.
I used to embrace the lows just to feel.
I don't want to feel anymore.
Can you feel this?
Sit here with me.
Join me.
Read my eyes as the rain clouds them.
Read these words as my tears drown them.
And what do I have left to share with you but the reality of this hell on earth that we must endure just to make it to the other side in the hope of something better.
But is there something better?
And do I want to risk it?
Stay here in this moment hoping daylight never comes or risk the morning sunlight and the hope that things will change.
The heat as it burns through the truth of who I am.
What I am.
But daylight always comes and nobody feels content all of the time.
And the daylight will fall upon me and I'll just want to sleep.
Because I can't stand the hours knowing it's not where I'm supposed to be.
