When the spirit is broken, much like a heart.. not much can mend.. Go on and on with the daily trend wondering.. what comes next? When a life so empty becomes so full then drains again I wonder what is the point? My eyes are going through a drought.. My heart anorexic and torn.. Sleep is a relief until surreality takes over only to be taken abruptly with the first light of the sun. Speaking to myself for hours on end, how will it get better when the only thoughts that cross my mind are tainted with the stench of your breath upon my skin...
Sometimes it seems easier to exist in a void. To exist in a world where no one is in it.. I figure the only one who feels this way is Irene.. who was with me and myself questioning the path with which we have followed on a skipping record for years counted in halves of 10. I swore in the first sentence that my fences weren't going to crumble. But what good do paper fences do when they are put up against a force so aqua it blasts the walls away with ease? We knew this was going to happen.. but we all watched as it was wrecked again by the scarlet tongue of the one who selfishly took all that was given to her on rent!
We are all at fault here. Not one innocent.. Not one of us is free. All bound by the chains that held us in each prison we chose. That prison was built with the knowledge that love exists here. So free form and so true. A second chance given was wasted by the ways of the faded ones who knew not what was wanted.. or what was needed.. The blind desire shadowed the entire show with one final curtain call. So familiar from the last cast! Disappointment and bitterness shown through last time makes what's now a small smouldering mass of coles compared to the flames that burned our noses before. The smell of toasted flesh makes for a lovely conversation in the morning. One that I most surely have with myself when I am reassuring myself that everything is alright. When I lie to that doe eyed girl in the mirror each morning she looks back at me with a face that shows the signs of age. When that face duplicates the x-ray eyes you once gave me.. How is it ok to lie to the one you hold so true inside?
I awake poisoned stomach and pulsating hair. I question the paintings put all around my head. Are they real? Or were they put here for me to view and interpret? An answer comes not from me. For if I knew the outcome I would have played my game differently. This mate is stale.. the stale taste of the forgotten person I left in to zeros and a lucky. The double ones of present still sing the same song. The melodies of a broken soul always ring louder than the rhythm of your broken heart.. still skipping a beat and repeating the same line until one of us dies...
Sometimes it seems easier to exist in a void. To exist in a world where no one is in it.. I figure the only one who feels this way is Irene.. who was with me and myself questioning the path with which we have followed on a skipping record for years counted in halves of 10. I swore in the first sentence that my fences weren't going to crumble. But what good do paper fences do when they are put up against a force so aqua it blasts the walls away with ease? We knew this was going to happen.. but we all watched as it was wrecked again by the scarlet tongue of the one who selfishly took all that was given to her on rent!
We are all at fault here. Not one innocent.. Not one of us is free. All bound by the chains that held us in each prison we chose. That prison was built with the knowledge that love exists here. So free form and so true. A second chance given was wasted by the ways of the faded ones who knew not what was wanted.. or what was needed.. The blind desire shadowed the entire show with one final curtain call. So familiar from the last cast! Disappointment and bitterness shown through last time makes what's now a small smouldering mass of coles compared to the flames that burned our noses before. The smell of toasted flesh makes for a lovely conversation in the morning. One that I most surely have with myself when I am reassuring myself that everything is alright. When I lie to that doe eyed girl in the mirror each morning she looks back at me with a face that shows the signs of age. When that face duplicates the x-ray eyes you once gave me.. How is it ok to lie to the one you hold so true inside?
I awake poisoned stomach and pulsating hair. I question the paintings put all around my head. Are they real? Or were they put here for me to view and interpret? An answer comes not from me. For if I knew the outcome I would have played my game differently. This mate is stale.. the stale taste of the forgotten person I left in to zeros and a lucky. The double ones of present still sing the same song. The melodies of a broken soul always ring louder than the rhythm of your broken heart.. still skipping a beat and repeating the same line until one of us dies...
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