Skip to main content

The Source of Your Misery

 I am the source for your misery. The pathways of resentment slowly rising over when I lashed out. In a way I knew I was slowly being edged out of the equation. My frustrations built up and I had nowhere else to place them. But now we've made our peace. Brokered a deal which suits you best even if it pains me greatly that it came to this.

I'm not the one for grand sweeping statements or sentiments. You've often criticised me for not doing things you want me to. I cannot physically make it happen and when it does, inwardly I'm given hell for it. Considerations must go both ways.

The more you criticised, the more I felt I wasn't good enough. I guess you were hoping for the opposite effect. I am the source for your misery. The pain being involuntary. The more times the same bad memories brought up to shame had their desired effect. Words twisted beyond lives can mask. And all I ask is forgiveness.

I live with a haunted past, things that I want to bury but come back to life. The symptoms were shown to you on full display, you can see why I'm so brittle that the timidity shines through. The "best years" of your life tending to a broken man. Insulted, you insult him. I've made you sullen and insolent to all the bad memories you remember or misremember. But that's what happens in the consequence of time.

In the end what defines our sense of death is love and which type. The pain that paves the way for everything else. I'd rather play make-believe and settle for company than trying to play something that's uncomfortable for a number of reasons even if I'd like to be in that position. When the body disintegrates, you can't take the things you used to for granted. You always wanted more out of a severely asthmatic boy. I don't know if that was a sign of things to come.

I am the source of your misery. I take all the shame that I've caused. I'm only here to recover, you recount your humiliations - I'm sorry it got to a stage like this when I still love you and care for you deeply. I always knew I was going to fail at some point. I always hid the pain you caused me because there was always the feeling the more I try to voice them, the harder you would re-inforce the humilation I caused you. I don't want that to pass. I just want us to be happy.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The One Who Gets In The Way

It seems blackly comical that I persist in loving you even after the time has long since past. You misreading situations from the past like time immemorial. You wanted to be queen, you wanted to have the same feeling that destroyed me as a teenager. Petty jealousies run rife with you. Now you've got someone who has the same petty jealousies you once had. I'm just the enemy who gets in the way. The feelings I believed in but was always too muted for your liking - too timid, no grandstanding acts of love and devotion. You pinpoint the negatives without looking at the reasons why. And if you did you'd twist them to suit your agenda. But then again, this time isn't your fault. You got ambushed when your guard was low and I would've worn you out with my medical provisions. It just hurts when I'm the one who gets in the way. My bitterness has always been a part of me. I've said we'll still be friends but I sometimes wonder if that's the right decision. The...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Ruins of a Faded Life

Along the echoes, past the icy shores. Dreams of a longing going unrequited. You made your bets and came up short. Here he is, the golden child. Seeking bitterness out of the ruins of a faded life. Bowing to the music from another temple. He dreams of iconic nights in a sheen of paper dust. Watch the film roll and watch it all burn. Anxiety forms in the secret shadows, the faucet drips of a secret amnesia etching out familiar words to the former sacred mind. Disintegrating memories of compassion in a lifeless world. Business comes, business calls. Tomorrow's vendetta is last week's sense of dread. But hop in to think out for solutions in the week ahead. If death was the answer, it would have been too good. After all, how fortunate it is for me to want anything at all.
Post a Comment
Read more

Shifting Politics of Stupidity

I felt like a wreck trying to walk to the bus. My body's in pieces and I'm told that I hope to get better. Meanwhile I fall apart. There's no sinking ships here - just empty vessels. There's no use in florid language when I describe what's really happening. Physio appointments, subjects of pain. Moments of wondering if this is real or just another example of a photogenic death. No one reads you anyway, it's all just for show. But the part that wins is the part that dies. Bone structure and muscle tightness. Linking the two together so that they become stones. The rest become like glass. Rehabilitation of destruction. Seismic shifts in disintegration. And we build our laws on shifting politics of stupidity. Hip to hip Heart to heart Who knows that we're all Just fallling apart And in these silent moments, I feel so stupid that I only wish it would end. A pill, a cream or something stronger. Tomorrow's another day. Another day to repeat the same...
Post a Comment
Read more