all i remembered was that i did not care for the feeling, that i did not want to be that person. feel that hurt.
Now i am that person. i feel that hurt.

A friend attempted to break me

Took a love of mine from under me

She won't approach me now

I smiled when I saw her, just yesterday

She packed up her things and left

Sleeping
Shuddering
Shaking**

Hold me,
Darling.
To keep me from flying.
Remind me,
Darling.
Of the way back.
Save me,
Darling.
From the demons.
Touch me,
Darling.
Reignite the embers of you.

A smile stretched across her face
color rising in her cheeks
though nobody could see,
she lifted her arm to hide her joy.

At last a sobering thought crept into her mind
pushed aside the bubble of glee
made itself heard.

This isn't what you want
remember?
Never again
remember?
It hurts too much
remember?

A silent movement
the sun becoming entangled among the bright shimmer  
of each delicate wing.

Microscopic gusts of wind
propel the critter forward in tiny flutters,
the sight bringing such joy to each onlooker that beheld it.

A child runs below,
clapping small hands together as it's joy overflows into the world around it.

But there is a man,
many years have hardened his face to the world.
as he sits
on a bench
the happy families,
the small child,
walk,run,skip,
straight by
without seeing a thing.
But he sees
and he knows
of what disaster such beauty can cause.

The slur in each word
The blurred state of vision
The muddled mind with fuzzy, mist like thoughts.
And yet,
The roar of unhindered courage
The strength of the desperation
That spends it's days tossing and turning in the background.
Always there, but never quite heard.

Come together and rise up and over
What is left of all logical thought.

You asked me once,
if I'd written about you.
I'd smiled as I shook my head.
With every word I write, a part of you settles on the page, amongst the ink that never dries fast enough.
Leaving smudges across the page.

I used to believe the reason I picked up a pen, sprawling ink along a once pristine page was to rid myself of you.
Word by word, drawing you out to settle amongst the ink that never dries fast enough.
I reflect on a night, spent with a lover.
My hands refused to settle,
agitated by the urge to write.
Long, shaking lines made up the letters trailing around my bare legs.
A whispered voice calls me to return, the urge is gone.
Perhaps the writing isn't for the abandonment of you. Perhaps it is the last of you - all I have now.
Muddled amongst the ink that never dries fast enough.

this is just me, pushing you away
all over again
though this time it's happening
whilst a smile is splitting my face

because maybe you'll listen
to the lies and the *******

maybe you'll leave
with your head held high and laughter spilling from your lungs

I have never felt the gutting feeling accompanied my the dismal from a job
over facebook chat
where all great things happen

where the man you loved told you its over
where you where told a beloved pet had died

where all emotion is stripped as you sit in the glare of the screen and hate them
hate them for being so weak
so pathetic
so utterly void of anything nearing compassion

so you shut the site down
remind yourself that you deserve so much more
than a lack of human emotion.

the hardest thing ive done this year
is be your friend
just your friend
just friends;

your heart was too broken
your head said no
a friend is what you needed
and at first I smiled whilst becoming just friend

that was until i noticed
how often i wanted to kiss you,
when i saw you looking my way

Is my forever
turning into broken parts of you?

Late night talks,
hours where the entirety of the world,
consists only of 'us'.

Early morning kisses,
lingering just a fraction too long.

So I don't know where this is going, but I don't think I ever truly do.
My mind is full,
full to the point of overflowing
But still,
I am alone.
Even the thoughts which constantly fight to gain attention are of no solace.
They do not make me feel alive
they do not make me feel at all.
With all of the happenings that are occuring you would think I would care
but there is no care left in me to give.
I do not even care for the bone and flesh that is my body.
How am i to care for anything else?
I often gather the blankets,
hide away from the world
at the bottom of my bed
where no one can get me
nothing matters
but the deepest darkness which surrounds my form
the heat from my breath which cannot escape so returns to warm me
the rough feel of the woolen blanket against my bare skin.
reminding me
that i am still a part of this crazy world
with all its living
breathing
feeling
things
my arms wrap tighter around my chest
fingers round ribs,
falling into the gaps between each bone
still pressing
still holding
the sharp taste of blood reaches my nose as
in a futile attempt to abait the darkness
each finger delves into fleshing.
pushing
pushing
until the blood rises

though still,
it comes
the screams and the fear

the stool stands where i left it
before i crumpled to the floor
tears soaking my shirt
mouth wide in a grimace
shaped around a silent cry

the crash of metal hitting glass
the realization of what i have done
what i have become

i am a monster

Fear, in its infinite forms
creates something of such wonder that when it is observed clearly,
as it is by but few
every hair upon every inch of skin covering the living, breathing body of each observer,
will stand to attention.

It wraps around the soul,
Holding it tight.

Seeping through every artery
Every vein.
Until it fills and becomes
Everything there is.

like a trapped animal
frozen with the knowledge
of imminent capture.
Every atom in their body wanting to run,
yet all they can do is stand there
waiting for death.

Feel a little dead behind the eyes
In the effort to lessen
to numb
The pain left behind
Like footprints in the sand
caught somewhere between bone dry and soaking wet
a subtle reminder of the glow of what was
The flickers that have fought through it all
The hope that is all there is left
of the glow that once was

Are smothered and banished from all concious thought
to reside with the beast that took all that once was

Is my forever
turning into broken parts of you?

Late night talks,
hours where the entirety of the world,
consists only of 'us'.

Early morning kisses,
lingering just a fraction too long.