Maybe, people think i like to talk a lot,
but there's no real consequence in what i say;
if you listen very carefully,
you can hear the silence in my words.
You may realise that the nothingness you hear
is really what i am trying to convey.

I am very unlikely what you have percieved me to be,
i'm not a contradiction, or a justification,
i'm not an ephiphany, or your solace.
I rarely make sense to you, but i know i understand myself
i'm not too good at getting across what i want to say,
sometimes i understand i'm not built that way.

I am not attention seeking but demanding,
I am not confusing just misunderstood,
I am not what you think i am likely to be.
Happiness is only a thought away
a determination is what is needed per day
don't try to understand me, when you can't speak me.

I always believed scars were so beautiful,
until I became one.
A walking, breathing, talking scar - an unchanging reminder of what was and what shall never be again.

I became the scar reminiscent of our love- or rather my love because you were the definition of unrequited
and I used to like that about you - your unwaveringly selfish nature, I used to accredit it to your self belief but then I realised you got that from stripping away mine.
Bit by bit you became who you were by chipping away at pieces of my soul.
Catching the dust of all my dreams and beliefs in your hands and then sifting through it to get what you needed.

Some days you needed a lover.
You needed the heat of my hands raw against the planes of your back- which I had studied in such a neurotically engrossed manner-that surprised even you.
Other days you needed a slave, bent upon raw knees to serve your every whim
and not in a ****** sense because you made it clear that I was repulsive to you most of the time.
No,
you needed someone to serve you and worship at the temple that was your being. You needed a women to be enslaved to your love. You needed to be served and ushered and elevated with no emotional connection. You needed an unchanging commitment that only served you.  

You see, I was forever trying to be what you needed and in that attempt-that feigned attempt at what I used to believe was love, I lost myself. Wading through parts of you that you didn't even care to understand I lost myself.
Raw on my knees.
Wading barefoot through your soul.
Between the sheets- crawling towards you milimeter by milimeter only for you to move further each time.
Tracing the planes of your burning back.
That's when I lost myself,and became a scar. Evidence of all the times you hurt me in a marvelously unflinching and unforgiving way...

All of which I realised when I was destitute.
You see you used to be my home but then the season of our love expired and you threw me out and as I walked the streets of my new life, navigating what it meant to exist without you, I had an earth shatteringly glorious ephiphany - that loving you and being destitute were the same thing.

So here I am. A scar that walks and talks and breathes and the great thing about this scar is that I'm evidence of a healed wound. I am no longer raw from loving you and I am no longer lost. I'm a *** who smiles with no teeth.

after enough charred inhaling and stuttered swallowing
and after the invincibility of the act evaporates
your biceps begins to sag and your mind stops moving
it’s you suddenly find yourself hovering through the days
and time is subjective and all things are subjective
and so what if you don’t do that because everything’s just particles in your brain
slapping against one another to make the flickering pictures of this world

and then once every few days you shake your head and stand up
and say I’m gonna do something! but keep the same diet
and revert to the same state of synthetic zen-like denial.

you sit on a silent conveyer belt as hours pass
and things happen around you but you see them through a lens
a film onscreen, pleasurably cathartic, but your soul’s still in the theater
watching from a stained, sticky seat some dimensions away
and the heckler’s behind you won’t shut up
and they keep you from focusing on the movie itself
and your peripheral vision becomes distinct
and you find yourself aware of the speakers and exit signs
and the slight dust and film grains splashing in front of your view
and you think of this as an ephiphany
instead of Brechtian distanciation at its most curdling.

then your brain starts feeling like a frisbee
and your body is the monkey in the middle
trying to grab at it but it tires out
and the bullies run away with it
and your left with a black hole in the head
laying in complacency in front of a shimmering cube
sounds and images with no correlation or relevance
pondering your higher knowledge of all things around it, around you
and giggling to the echoing cobwebbed corners of the room
about the ignorance of those not privileged to the same diet.

why are there already nats around me?
i'm not dead yet you freaks

No gold to give you
Frankincense I cannot smell
Myrrh afraid to find
I follow the star
Silently make a you turn
Give homage to God
Bearing not a gift
Wrapped in paper and a bow
Only me to give

Your fingers slowly traversed the black and white keys
Gently yet firmly pressing them til you slowly drift away from reality
Til the music and you are in harmony

In chaos but at the same time in harmony
Diverse but at the same time has melody
This music strongly laced with your emotions
This orchestra of feelings bleeding with your passion

I feel at home yet lost in this music i can't seem to explain
Like my sanity has gone astray yet it's still same
I feel like drowning in this anthem of your soul
Entranced not only by what I hear but by the symphony of you as a whole

But now, it feels like the end is nearing
This world you made is slowly collapsing
With out a trace, it's now disappering
Yet why am i still attatched to this feeling

Now, one by one, note by note, key by key
Your fingers gently brush againts the black and white keys
Producing a tragic yet beautiful melody
Then finally comming to a halt to end this ephiphany