Rotting Love

She wonders why he doesn't hear, he doesn't see. He says he's listening, but the words aren't getting through. She can't show him so she's trying to tell him in the best way she can, but now the message is all askew. He thinks she's light, but she can't even cast out the shadows of his doubt and she's slowly disappearing in the void of her own. She can't scream louder then her own fear. It festers like a wound in her heart and she wants to let him know that in her mind he's already gone. She's holding onto the hope and a memory she can never touch. Reaching across space for a hand she's never felt. A ghost with no warmth to give. No body to hold. She recedes in her silence watching her love rot as she forgets the reasons why.. Refuses to care to numb the pain, to save the anger, to drown the tears.

Human Wreck

What is it you see behind closed eyes? Do you find what you seek in the darkness of your mind? I'm trying to find the answers and the words, but I can't read between broken lines. We're looking through the same glass, but the reflections are never the same. I'm curious, what it is you see in your reflection? I want to know your secrets and have you concede to me the things you dare not even dream. I can't seem to fathom all your reasons and wonder at your excuses. Why do you hide yourself behind so many layers? Are you afraid of what lies beneath? Couldn't you please open your eyes a moment and look my way for once? Is it so bad that I want you to notice me as the girl I want to be? Is it so wrong to wish that you'd only be mine? To have you open your arms for me or even reach out a hand? But no, your fingers are only an illusion and your embrace something I'll never feel. I'm stuck here in a realm between living and lost. The binds tying me to you are to strong to tear apart. I can't even turn away, unlike you, I'm forced to watch as you devour yourself in your own paranoid depression. To weak to do anything more then merely exist. You aren't so bad, you know. You're just a beautiful little human wreck.

Never Was, Never Will Be

She looks in the mirror and sees strange eyes staring back at her. So distant. Different then she remembered. The face there is distorted. Smudged by false images. It never changes. No matter how many times she tries to wipe the reflection clean. She's been trying so hard to live up to that ideal woman he holds in his mind, but she could never be that girl. She tried so hard to live up to their high standards, but she never quite reached the bar. She tried to give her hand to one and help them up, but ended up taking it from another and letting them fall. She tried to hide the hurt of the wounds being inflicted upon her heart, but the scars kept ripping open. She tried to cover the tears, but they still fell. She tried to hold onto her dreams, but they were twisted into nightmares. She tried to run, but they gave chase and she could never run that fast. So now she stands still and listens to their screams. No longer does she lift her arms in self defense, but allows the blows to fall upon beaten skin. She knows now that she can never be that person her heart yearned to be.

Beacon of Hope (Tuesday, June 29, 2010)

A star. A small beacon of hope. A pinprick of light in the darkness. Yet a star is meant only for one, because if it turns it's attention to another then it takes it's light away and leaves the first in darkness. For only a foolish star would think they can light a world, unless that star be the sun, and even then only one half the world is lit while the other is given a cast off reflection; The moon, a fickle thing at best as it waxes and wanes. Teasing weary hearts as it grows in brightness and when they think they will reach the end of a long journey it flickers out and leaves them in darkness. Giving them back to the stars that speckle the velveteen sky like a myriad of diamonds.

Secreted Love (Thursday, May 20, 2010)

Lets go away... To our own world. Somewhere where they can't find us. A place just for us where their pain can't follow. Where their faces can't haunt us and we can forget the wistful ache that they cast aside like ash in the wind. Let us share with each other the things we did not know. The things we dreamed of, but could never see. Let us take comfort in one anothers embrace and find new love in secreted kisses. Together we can forge a new path away from the death and destruction. Like the blind, we can push our way through the darkness while hand in hand and when we come out the other side we can open our eyes to take our first view of a new world, together.

Mask of Me (Wednesday, May 12, 2010)

I wear a mask upon my face. It's not one that many can see, but still it is there. It covers my shame when self despising feelings arise. It reveals pride and strength in place of modesty and weakness. It gives to the world a projection of an illusionary self. A self that exists solely to hide the inner and protect it from the hurt lashed out at it. This mask bleeds for the face beneath. It refuses to yield the secrets held within. Is this mask just a lie? Or is it the truth of the present and the hidden face an unborn desire that struggles to break of its cocoon? Do we not become who we pretend to be, even if it is only for that moment? For it is in that moment that we live. The past is gone and the future yet to be. So then, is that mask not me?

Tainted and Pure (Thursday, March 11, 2010)

I've been asked before what I think love is and what I want it to be. I've thought this over and as time goes on I figure I want it to start with a simple kiss. An aphrodisiac of love. Not completely innocent as desire blooms forth from meeting lips. A curiosity tinged want that doesn't demand, but asks without taking. Giving yet begging for more. Soft little pleas that whisper to the soul and are echoed by a fluttering heart. Needed affection burning through veins and leaving a blazing trail of love in place of disintegrating lust. Enveloped in the warmth of a selfless embrace where pain is forgotten, shed in tears that fall like diamonds. Something pure that is given as a gift with no strings attached.
Too often though people are left thinking love is something that causes pain. It isn't supposed to hurt. It isn't meant to be tainted by expectations and ruined with disappointments. A person shouldn't be left thinking love means tears and blood.

Back To Death (Saturday, February 13, 2010)

I have these thoughts that are like a maze through my mind and emotions akin to a tangled web caught on shattered dreams. I wonder if perhaps they are fueled by my ire or if it is my sorrow that causes them to bloom? Birthed from these feelings are the visions of rending flesh and corpses. The screaming of the damned and the crying of the shamed. I hear and see them like a constant echo in my head. Where can I hide from my own self created images? I seek release from pain never asked for and yet I'm constantly dragged back into reality. It's during this that I can hear death calling. Whispering, urging, promising. Death acts like a fine temptress when showing me the desires of which I cannot speak. I know death wants me. I can feel death wrapping me in its suffocating embrace. Drawing me down into the abode of the defleshed ones. Should I scream would anyone hear me? Do I even want to be helped? From the moment I was born was I not meant to be deaths and death meant to be mine?
Some may consider this logic twisted, but why? I wonder if it isn't because they also have these thoughts, but more securely hidden away. Life seems to be a thing of constant denial. No one ever wanting to admit their deepest fears or wants. Afraid of being condemned or mocked. I am only now learning to accept these ideas as my own reality. I am not a death seeker nor would I purposefully try to take my own life. It is the thought of death that intrigues me. I'm in constant wonder of what may be waiting at that time. I am curious about the sensations I would go through. When I think of death I imagine an intense emotional release. Pure feeling and complete understanding. This may come from a variety of dreams I've had on the subject, because within my dreams my emotions are very overwhelming. At the same time, however, they are very clear. The emotion is perfectly understood without the confusion that many find in reality.
Inside I feel lost and empty. I know something is missing and I connect my attitude towards death to this void. I keep searching for that one thing that will fill the hole yet it always seems to elude me. At first I thought it might be something that only another person could give me, but upon further analysis I have come to discover that what I'm searching for is an emotion. Some may say love, but I am not too sure of this. I doubt it is any one emotion in particular, but rather it is the strength of the emotion. I want to be consumed with the feeling. Leaving no space for anything else. Death plays upon this desire and uses it to lure me further into its greedy grasp. In death I am promised that ultimate feeling. The ebbing of life just might end up being my sweetest ecstasy.

Death (Friday, October 02, 2009 )

I can't remember how long ago it started, a few months I think.. It was during one of the times Pete hadn't been on for awhile and I was feeling really depressed. I can't remember all of them but I do remember some. The first one had two endings.. aside from that this is what happened..

I was with a friend and we were lost, it was night and gradually the stars began to vanish. Eventually a man came upon us and offered his help, hesitant at first we finally accepted. I was to wait at the bottom of this ladder that led to the ground above that which we were on. A chain linked fence stretched the distance above. I knew I had waited a long time and finally I went up to see what was going on. Slipping through the tight squeeze between the gate entrance and the gate itself I called out in a whisper, the dream began growing dark here until finally it was pitch yet still I could see. Not see like a person normally does but in a more... well.. it's hard to describe. The blackness killed everything and yet still there was sight.. Anyway.. My friend was there.. she was dead. I remember that I knew here in real life but can't recall who she is, I think at one point her identity changed. That happens a lot in my dreams. He came after me. I fought him till I was beaten and bloody.. This is where the ends differ.. In this first ending I freed myself and ran, I only got so far before a bullet pierced my neck and I fell dead. In the second ending I ran into this field of tall stalks, I ended up crawling on my knees as He followed, calling out to me. There was a time his feet passed before my face. On the outskirts of the field people camped at the base of a large hill. I ran to them and than past. He followed. They were slaughtered and before the last one fell I woke.

This second dream took place in a house of traps. It was falling apart and the inside was a mess, covered in dust. There was a group of people. I knew all of them but can't recall. I knew the place was dangerous and we were being hunted but they didn't seem to understand no matter how many times I tried to tell them. The chimney was stuffed with all sorts of pipes and metals and while they examined this a person came through the door. I tried to warn them but my voice went unheard, it felt like I was speaking in water. There was a little girl. I remember her more vividly. I don't know where she came from but I knew I'd be too late to save her as the man lifted a bow, loosing an arrow. Even though I threw myself at the child I fell short as if stopped by something and the arrow pierced through her right eye. Even with the blood trickling down her pale cheek she didn't seem to have noticed the pain. She seemed so... serene. She stood there dead for moments before finally falling. As I cradled her head in my arms the group scattered in screams, the man chasing them and traps going off, killing.. wounding.. Yet my attention was fixed on her face, caught by her empty gaze.

The third dream took place in the desert.. It was during a war. I don't remember the events that led up to it so much as the ending part of the dream, but my group of people were running around, guns were going off.. Angie was there. She was about to get shot, I could see it coming. The bullet flew over us as I tackled her into a tight ditch.. Climbing out of it I found my mom standing there waiting. She had a gun that also acted as a lighter >.> which actually looked pretty cool, but I advise you never to get one.... Anyway as she went to light her cigarette the gun went off and shot Angie. I fell beside her trying to cover the wound but as much as I tried to deny it we both knew she was going to die.. She gestured and called me nearer so I could hear her and in a whisper of last breath she said 'Love me..' After that I held her sobbing and nodding, just clutching her to my chest.. At this point I could feel Pete's presence. He wasn't really there physically, just.. spiritually. He emanated sorrow yet at the same time a sense of understanding. I was so sad and torn. I didn't like that dream u.u not one bit..

The fourth one however... I was trapped in this tower by a god but than I managed to escape. I don't remember how. Only that when I did I had to swim across part of an ocean. My thoughts completely on getting back to My Lord. The God of Death. After reaching land I ran, never taking a moment to rest. His home was built half onto a tree with round windows, the uppermost one being lit up. Upon seeing it I ran through the door. He stood there with a mage. I took a moment to stare at him before rushing forward and throwing my arms around him. I was filled with an overwhelming joy at the sight of him. Like all my worries and stresses had been lifted. He nuzzled my neck while carrying me into his room, and sorry to tell you people but I'm not getting descriptive with this part. As you can guess from the title, I made love to death. After all those dreams, some of which I couldn't give do to not remembering, Death finally embraced me with open arms and claimed me as his lover. I'm not sure how to take that meaning..

Well n.n Here's another dream I had just last night. Only I wasn't the one to die, I tried, but ya know.. Okay.. I walked into a room where two people I apparently knew were hanging by chains and hooks from the ceiling, one was even upside down. Two men were there as the tormentors and when I was found I was pushed into a chair and the meaner of the two told me I could decide whom would die (I looked rather half asleep or drugged) He than handed me a weapon that looked like sharp angled butterfly wings, another small blade swung out from just above the hilt, it was really weird but it looked pretty sweet. I glanced at the two hanging at the lifted one of the curved wing tops to my throat but before I could do any harm to myself the other guy, who I also happened to know, yanked the blade from me >.> Someone hit the chair I was sleeping in and woke me up after that u.u

Denial (Tuesday, July 15, 2008)

I find the world to be quite depressing.. People are just sick creatures. Lying thieves who play upon each others weaknesses like puppeteers with strings hooked into the flesh so the slightest pull brings them crawling back like a dog at your every beck and call, with words so twisted the truth is but a contorted lie in itself an image of absolute corruption in the mind of one whose ignorance would shield from such things just to crumble beneath the weight like a glass mask finding the solitude of the inner self but a simple trick in the stages of denial...