Skip to main content

To Live with Tortured Memories (The Two Faces of Death)

In silences I become alive again breathing through the corridors waiting for it all to fall back down again. Wheezing through avenues I'm waiting for you even if I don't know why I should. Stuck here with a loosened grip to wallow in the past with broken glass. It would've been nice if you didn't give me anxiety attacks every so often. I would've married a multitude of seething passions burning me from the inside out. A hollow wreck that burns smoke when there used to be flames.

Mistakes ring hollow in the face of money. A dream turned nightmare in the flicker and I'm made to feel like a customer of my own downfall. What use is happiness when the slaughter takes place out of hours and the body collapses from within. Dizzy paranoia with the noise and the noise and the noise. I became fragile in the temple of health. It's nice to know I'm not one of them even if they were supportive instead of you.

Living in the country of exorbitant demands and life has practically bankrupted me. I've become an energy void where the vampires used to feed. I used to love you/I used to have enthusiasm. Now I whittle away with cat scrapes covering my hands and arms. The desire I had has burned me alive. If only you can see the anxiety attacks that came with me. If only you could see the nervous breakdowns your persona imposed. If only you could see how frail you made me. But I can't bear to be in the same room as you. Too many old wounds would reopen at will.

The two faces of death have seen me and have willed me on to live with tortured memories. A punishment far too harsh for anyone to bear. Male and female, the destruction is complete. I must live with these secret communities that have borne the brunt of hidden pain that lives with them every day. 

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