Quiet

~My heart is completely broken, could everything just be quiet, just for a few moments. I have forgotten what hope sounds like, what love sounds like, so if all the voices could just go away, and let me listen to my tears...maybe I could breathe again and my heart would start beating. Because I all I want is to fix what is broken but your voices are confusing, there is a ringing in my ears and for the first time I understand the peace of solitude. His is the only voice I want to hear, and his is the only voice I can't.~

Nothingness

I have died, I feel nothing but death.
All I can do is cry.
I am not allowed to love him.
I failed.
I hate myself.
I feel like this will never go away.
I will be empty forever.

Life is different here she says it's not Camouflage with gold

Once upon a time there was a girl. He would stay up all night to hear her voice. He would give up the ocean to see her. He would leave heart shaped rocks by her pillow. He would cry at the thought of loosing her, after making love to her, overwhelmed by what he felt for her. He would look at her like she was the most sacred thing in all the earth.
She failed.

Woke up far away
A place I didn't know
A woman smiled at me
She said, welcome to my home
Life is different here she says it's not
Camouflage with gold
And hey leave the light on for me
And hey leave the light on for me

Im here to give validation to time, I am its muse.

What do you see?
Nothing, just space.
Are you afraid?
How could I be afraid of not existing, I wouldn’t know that I do not exist.
What are you doing here? If your end is just non-existing?
Im here to give validation to time, I am its muse.
Your life has no purpose?
What is purpose? What does achievement even mean? I do not effect the universe, it moves if I exist or not. Anything I do is eaten by the passing of time. My view of the universe is just electrical signals in my brain, the charge itself effects the the universe more than I do.
You are alone tonight.
Yes I am.
Are you afraid?
Yes.
Of what?
Wasting my time...I feel like a waste so much of my time waiting, and not enough of it living. If I could do as I wished, I would leave, I would get on a plane and fly halfway across the world just to view a waterfall. However, I cannot do as I wish, there is no freedom in the society that has been created, we are bound by gain. We are slaves to ourselves.
You have no optimism tonight.
I am empty tonight, raw, barren, stale. I have not touched life for a while.
Why is that?
I cannot find it...My system is shutting down, why is it that we need sleep? What does sleep do? Prevent us from the over load of reality? That if we did not sleep we would end up consuming to much reality, realize our pointless existence and end it? Why does the universe prevent us from doing so.
What is life? Why do you need to touch it?
Because when I touch life, it makes me feel like the universe is tangible. Like I am witnessing something incomprehensible and that makes me feel like I am part of it.

Escape

Escape, into a silent place. No thoughts, no feelings, nothingness; a whisper, a small impression.

Knowledge

Her eyes green eyes were rimmed with a dark blue.
Her naivety leaked out through her tears.
Her skin young aged with each drop that hit the ground.

Me

I am not sure how I am supposed to do this, because he leaves for 12 days and it has been 3 days of that 12 and already I miss him. I feel like I have a disability and that disability is how much I love him. I can function without him, its not about needing him in order for my life to keep moving, but it is like I feel a part missing from me if I cannot reach out and touch him.
The same thing that makes my love for him so perfect is what also attempts to destroy it. I know that if he were to break up with me, cheat on me emotionally or physically, or die, it would all feel the same. It would feel like I was being torn into tiny pieces, and not once but over and over again, and just by thinking about it I can almost feel that pain and it horrifies me. I am so afraid of being hurt that it makes me insecure to the point I am sabotaging the relationship with the one person on this earth that I can and ever will love like this. I am so afraid of that pain, of how such a huge part of me will die and never come back, that I at the smallest hint of rejection from him my whole world collapses and I cry as if it has. He hates it when I cry and he can’t understand it, what has happened that would cause me that much pain?
I am not a weak pathetic person, but I will admit to being afraid and that fear makes me needy and unattractive. A very stupid part of me is convinced that he doesn’t really love me and that at any moment he is going to leave me or find someone better. Then there is the part of me that remembers the summer and when he came home, and how much he loves me, and if I can just be her again, that girl he saw, then perhaps when I do have a bad day he will be willing to just understand and show me the affection I desire. Why would he want to make a needy broken girl feel better? Such displays of weakness are not lovable.
This fear will destroy me and take away the only thing in my life that I love so much it makes me breath, and when he wants to, he makes feel like I have tasted heaven. I cannot inspire him to show me the kind of love that makes me feel like that if I ask for it with uncontrollable tears. I am not stupid and I know what I am doing and what is wrong with me. I now just have to stop. I need to win the fight between myself and this fear or else by trying desperately to keep him I will drive him so far away I will never get him back.
I am not ashamed of the fact that after only 3 days I miss him, because if I didn’t it would mean I did not love him the way I do and if I did not love him the way that I do this whole thing would be pointless. The insecurity, the jealousy, and the way I don’t trust him not to hurt me, all have to stop and I need to chose to be open to that pain I am so desperately afraid of. I know that I cannot live without him, and I don’t mean that in the sense that I would kill myself, but I do mean that I would die, who I am would die. I would have to rebuild myself and that girl would not be capable of the same love, that girl would be scar tissue sown together with barbed wire. I do not want to meet her, or create her. The thought of that girl makes my dreams turn black.
I am unable to be vulnerable with him, I have a hard time letting him know how much he means to me in the fear that it will disgust him, that he will see it as pathetic and not want me. I realize that instead of telling him how much I love him, I have been telling him how much I need him. I have been saying “I need your love and I need your affection or else I cannot function, or else I am not whole” but this is not true, the only thing that I need, is to love him. It is loving him that makes me whole and the rest is mine. The insecurities are mine and he has paid for the ones he has caused. He has watched the pain they have caused and because of how much he loves me it hurts him to see, and I keep throwing them back in his face. It is no wonder he is cold toward my tears and the puddles of insecurities they leave.
How am I supposed to say I am sorry for that? How I am I supposed to say that I have been selfish and only looking at my fears and insecurities instead of accepting that he loves me. Why am I still trying to make him prove it? I keep telling him that he is not enough, when the truth is I could never desire more, ever. I love him beyond thought and beyond words and it is the most beautiful feeling this world has to offer. Beautiful things don’t stay beautiful if you try to cage them up with your own fears and insecurities. I have to let it go, and if I am to get hurt and have to construct that ugly bitter girl, then I will. The fear of her however needs to leave now, because I just hurt him with her. I love him so so very much and he deserves me not what I have been giving him. I don’t even know how to begin to tell him that.

Air

It's like feeling a thousand pounds lift off my heart
Just that one look and my dying heart beats

Backwards

I never write when I am happy. If you want call it happy, however it may just be content. It is very rare that happiness comes to boiling point were you overflow with emotion and desperately desire to express it upon a page. I remember feeling like that before, and writing beautiful ideas and thoughts down on a page, but lately my happiness is rarely that elevated and I am preparing for the next moment, the one that comes after. I am preparing for the moment when the dark emotions come back and it is those I need to spew upon a page.
Right now however, I am happy, there is stillness, everything floats above the shit and just rests breathing in the fresh air. In the back of my mind there is still the stench though, and the fear of falling down again. I was once so happy I felt like my happiness was untouchable and that it came from a world that was incapable of being tainted by the shit of this one, but now to my horror this world moved in on my perfect one, and I have no idea how to get back to what it was before.

Cold

The world does not have time for happy, kind, love, compassion. There are time limits on these things, the necessity to draw back to death, fear, insecurity, anger, hate, impatience, destroys rainbows and green grass and clear waters. Good things, happy things, they are like bastards, illegitimate, lies, no merit can be found in “good” and “happy.” There is no truth in happy, sorrow, anger...that is where you find truth.
This world is black and gray, colors are illusions, escapes from reality to stare at for those moments when the desire is for life to just end. Red is a beautiful lie, love, roses, romance, but those are illegitimate, lies, blood....thats what real, thats what is truth, red is blood, death, pain, dark.
What about green? Grass, trees, apples, eyes, green is fraud, just like blue, and purple and yellow. The world screams for sorrow, anger, fear, lust, hate, these are what is true.
I don’t walk around and see beauty, I walk around and see pointless, happiness is death. I would like to tell them they are killing themselves, if they try to be happy their souls will turn black with the disappointment of its lie. If you let yourself love you might as well place your head on a chopping block, it will gut you, rip you to tiny pieces and no matter how angry and bitter you get...you will still cry and hate yourself for every tear that falls to the ground. Your sorry soft heart should be growing thinker, harder, slowly closing, but instead you learn to lie. Hope is death but you still cannot rip it out, it refuses to leave, you cannot kill it, it rots away at what is left of your pathetic existence.
I hate what I see in the mirror, there is nothing lovely about her, she is weak, dark and meaningless. Her poor sleeping beauty heart cries to be red, green, blue. Why wont she just die, instead she clings to life lying in a frozen meadow of sorrow. Maybe once she forgets what summer is like, what warmth and red are she will let go and leave me alone. Stop begging for someone to show her love, adoration, and delight in her. Her life hurts me, I hate her tears.

Words

Everything is stale, gray and washed out
There is no sounds but dull tones of meaningless voices
I am in a purgatory of stillness
Bound by forces embedded in my being

Everything is pointless
Anything good or beautiful is destroyed
Disgusting delight is found in the destruction of beauty
Or, beauty does not exist, it is a lie

Love is an executioner

Brink of Sleep

Tired.
Thoughts bounce off bones.
My skull feels like fog.

Images pass across my sight.
The memory of sensations rise like waves from my skin.
Everything is so mixed, random, rational does not exist here.

Primitive.
My mind lingers on hardness filling my soft flesh.
Of breath, moans, hands, lips.
Its like sustenance to my soul.

Fog again...
Images of fire.
Heat caresses my skin.
Its cold in here.

Heavy eyes....

Awaken

I woke up.
On Fire.
The Dream had shattered.
Self loathing, inadequacy.

Lovely?
What does that even mean?
Pools of self doubt and streams of insecurity.
Where is my identity?

I gave myself away.
No questions asked, filled with naivety.
My soft skin is enraged with the need to be thicker.

My being is filled, interwoven, entwined, laced.
Can’t protect from what is already inside.
Tears as it pulls and tugs.
Like barbered wire being drawn from by bones.

So much self loathing.
My sea must be perfect.
So much confusion, it must be me.

Light.
Seeps through the cracks in blinding bursts.
Strands of a misty dream.
Pieces of warmth that hinder the cold doubt.