Should I just let the door CLOSE, and shut out the voices?
Or should I fight, knowing it’s a lost battle?
Should I pick up the pieces?
Or should I DANCE on them and watch the colours unfurl!
Are you going to just WATCH as I bare myself, moment by moment, piece by piece, one by one, to one and all?
Aren’t you going to stop me? Slap me? Shake me from my trance?
Do you delight in my reverie?
Now what, sweetheart?
Is there no beginning after this end?
There should be, the stories say so,
Legend says so
History isn’t going to REPEAT itself?
But mama made me believe…
And I believed. Sadly, I still do.
This is going to CHANGE, right darling?
You’ll wake up any moment now,
Abandon your grave and hug me tight?
I can’t hear you.
You’re scaring me!
Don’t joke with me anymore!
Just SPEAK to me once baby,
Tell me love…
She sunk further in to the mess she, so beautifully, created,
Every fissure carved out with love,
Every hammer rammed through with passion,
Every cut traced out and made with precision,
Meticulous detailing of the cracks,
Scratched out blue wallpaper…
She breathed the mess through her soul and it came to be!
Her inspiration, you ask?
Oh! nothing really,
Just her heart.
Just her old, tattered, torn, little heart.
Sometimes I miss you
But I guess I shouldn’t
I’ve only to close my eyes and I’ll feel your embrace
I’ve only to hum our song and I’ll hear your sweet voice
I’ve only to remember and I’d find your lips meeting mine
I’ve only to lose myself and my soul shall drift to you
I guess I don’t need to miss you
It is you in I and I in you
Or is it?
She didn’t mourn during the last rites. Numb with bereavement, she stood motionless.
They lowered his body into the earth and therewith buried her spirit.
She had not wept at all in days. They shook her, wailed, brought forth memories of him, but to no avail.
She had lost the will to feel…
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We’re afraid to face ourselves.
We’re afraid of what it might do to us,
Even worse, what we might never be able to do, ever again.
Once the truth is spilled from our lips,
Ones ugliness is made known.
We feed ourselves with pride and then with guilt.
We revolt harmony,
We treat it like we would an enemy.
But why should it matter?
We do what we think we should.
We do what we must.
And in doing so there should be no remorse,
Only contentment, that we did what we truly wanted.
There’s great joy in being who you truly are.
No matter how crude, lonely, gruesome, painful it gets.
It’s a beautiful melody when we reveal the true ugliness of our soul.
It brings a very evident change in us, celebrates our liberty and all that we are, is made known to all and sundry.
She staggered through the desert, not stopping for breath, or water.
She recognized that the only way to conquer fear is to saunter on.
And so she did.
She held her anguish close to her bosom
A mother looking over her nursling
Glancing at it through the fissure
She wanted to ascertain her own desolation
It gave her courage.
You see, that’s how she was reminded of her mission, her machination, her need and her want.
Having walked on for miles, she lost all strength.
But she reminded herself, time and again, to not lose her will.
There’s some formidable power in misery that makes us do crazy things,
And do them well!
Hope began to lose its grip.
Because there was nothing but the vast desert, the sand, as far as the eye could see.
She began to cry until her tears ran dry and the sky put on its dark cloak.
It was only by the end of her journey that she began to run.
She could finally see the gallows.
Surrounded by voices from her past
Regret, shame, guilt, selfishness, greed, intemperance, love, care, tenderness were bawling their displeasure in the open.
She ran to her fate
Embraced it like it was her lover
Kissing it with a fierce passion
It was her time to bid adieu
And she did
With a beauteous smile
Now that’s a goodbye!