Friday, 16 January 2015

These Dark Places.

The thing about trying to protect yourself from other people is...that it simply leaves you more time to attack yourself. You would never distance yourself without reason.
Someone somewhere has been an arsehole. Most likely several people. Maybe even yourself...
And of all people. You are best for the job. You know just where it hurts.
What will break you. No...once you get as far as pulling away from others for any extended period of time.
You're fucked. Unless you labour against it...
The battle to love enough the shittiness of other people...in order to love your own.
That's the aim. In my heart I keep on smashing.
Some days,...such as this one. I want to tear away the sinew, the marrow...the flesh, to try and rid myself of where the demons in me hide. But they are me. So I languish here, allowing feverish loneliness to stroke my cheek with lies. Telling me of the horrors that lie outside of my bed. Or this bathtub I sit in as I try and sweat it out.
Don't let it crush you. Don't embrace it. It wants you for a prize. To devour.
But the artistic masochist in me...knows how easy it is to create in the depths of my own destruction.
The dangerous precipices between catharsis, self knowledge, and total catatonia.
The line between so close I terrify myself. I can take myself there, but will I always bring myself back?
The child in me pushes. To find that boundary. To seek my limitations.
The stronger I build myself with each fall, the further I can take myself down the next time.
Like deep sea divers who wish to break records. I see how much I can break myself.
It's an addiction.
For what I discover in the depths has me mesmerised.
Like a lover who knows all the secrets you keep, and tells you how beautiful you are for all your darkness. Your god damned mystery.
The more you need people, the deeper into the shadows you must creep.
There is need to be lonely. It is good and pure with the gifts it bestows. For a time.
But make it a confidant, and it will eat your soul whole. Telling you all the while
"it's okay, it's okay...you don't belong out there, stay here. I'll keep you safe"
 It's a dick. It's all lies.
And you are not a coward, stop letting yourself be one. Romancing the night.
Playing a game with your own sanity.
This is not talent, which I find
In these dark places.
It's only all the ways a soul can break.
Borrowing beauty from the night.


 

Thursday, 15 January 2015

The Paradoxical.

I forget sometimes, what love can be. I remember now
And everything since has been ridiculous. Disrespectful of love. Cruel sometimes.
To honour him, he whose heart I shattered with my inability to let myself love and be loved.
I wait. For something as grand and beautiful as what he offered.
As what we had. Once upon a time. Until I killed it.
How could something with such depth be real, my frightened heart beat into me.
I felt unsafe for all its security. Everything ends. Everyone goes.
The grief at its death still lives inside my flesh.
(But then, how could it not, when I was its death?)
Seeping out into the hollows that form, when I allow those more shallow
To pierce through my naïve soul. To see what they do not deserve to see
Of my supposed imperfections. My heart should be kept,
Box within box within box...
To save it from it's own clumsy falls.
It loves too easy, falls too hard.
And I do not believe there is a human alive who would not
Disappoint it somehow. I disappoint it myself.
For I love too much, to be loved enough.
And so I love everything.
Every damn thing.
To save myself from the fear,
That to love this way
Ironically, means
I will be alone.
Allowing only myself,
To be the danger
To my own damned heart.
 

Wednesday, 14 January 2015

He Moves The Waves. He Sets The Tide.

I would swim out to meet you in the depths of a storm.
Never thinking to question, whether I'll return to the shore.
Did you know that I drown in your voice?
In your eloquent grandiosity.
One word, any word. My flesh quivers.
My heart skips.
On a whim?
For nostalgia?
You pulled me back to you.
Though I held pretence to the contrary,
I could not...persuade myself
Into letting you go.
After all that time.
All that nothingness.
The cycle begins again.
And I falter. because you are gone once more.
Maybe not even knowing your power.
"you have to stop loving him"
But I can't.
I crawl back to myself,
But part of me is left at the bottom of the sea.
Lost to me. I will never retrieve it.
I do not want to.

 

Sunday, 23 November 2014

The Night, Talks.

Bed before ten, I try to make up for lost hours of sleep. I wake at 3:30am with the sudden urge to cry. As though I had slipped out of some tragic dream I cannot remember. A tear rolls wrong ways down my cheek, drips into my ear. "it's exactly what you think it is"
That song. The song I can't listen to again. Some part of me wants to play it.
But I've dissected the lyrics enough already. Enough already. Let it go.
Stop torturing yourself by hoping the truth is not the truth.
The house is empty. My stomach grumbles about being fed. So I eat cereal in the dark as I write.
In loneliness you get lost. When it bites, you think it has no end. That alone is all you will ever be.
Yet of course. Everything has an end...And alone is not always loneliness.
But in the midst of the night. In darkness, with rain falling against my window.
It feels like the only thing that exists.
And it swallows me whole.
 

Monday, 17 November 2014

September.

It is as though, I have turned around all of a sudden and become the woman- the grown up...I was always running from. Grown. At 32, more certain of all the things I want. Of the people who I love and of those ones who, regardless of how I love them - and no doubt will continue to, must be let go. I wonder what I have. This year...Ahh, this year has been,...so many things.
Hard ? I don't know that the word covers it - doesn't every year have hard parts for fucks sake?
...but this one, was hard in a way that cemented my adulthood firmly in place. So, this is what it is like?
...how old we thought this age was when we were smaller. This age, was teachers, and suits, and grey seriousness...Fucking hell, I never realised how awesome being a grown up would be.(And I always did like a nice suit..) That "adults" are just children playing at being what they think grown ups should be most of the time...How sorry I feel for those who shut that child out of themselves completely, pretend that it never existed at all. Let themselves rot into taxes and waiting for some imminent death.
But I am meandering...Regret. So adult a feeling. "I regret to inform you..."
Regrets, that I have never before allowed myself. (the big regrets...not those tiny ones like...I wish I hadn't eaten that entire tub of ice-cream...)
Because, regrets are things that are done. A regret, well...

 "Never look back unless you are planning to go that way." - Thoreau

Somehow, I always believe that everything is as it should be - no matter the beauty or the pain...
Everything needs to happen, everything must exist as it does. We must make mistakes. We must break. We must marvel in all the terrible realness of the world we live in, of the humans we are.
Go forward, and keep going. No matter what. But this emptiness...
I have been so far into the darkness, but I never looked down to what was in the bottom of my own abyss. I have always been far too terrified of what I was capable of keeping hidden.
Honesty, real gut wrenching honesty. I am obsessed with "truth" yet I do not even allow myself into my most harmful of thoughts. I let them fester in my silence. Pretending I am untouchable.
"A September child..." Just like myself...
 Lately, I see children, and finally now- two months after I would have been, had I not...(ahh..is this regret? or guilt? or can it be called another thing entirely? )
It hits me.
Winds me with such an incredible force. I could have been a Mother. (Wanting to be, or not...that is not the point here...)
You are not meant to think these things, not when you make certain choices. "for the best"
You are meant to just do them, and then go on as though nothing ever happened.
The pain in my gut, the fact I could find no good reason (Because I am not reason enough alone.)
...not even then. Regret ?
Guilt? I did a thing- the right thing? there are so many angles to look at it from.
A selfish choice. Not a wrong thing..But a harshly real thing. A thing I cannot seem to truly justify with a reason from anywhere inside of my self. A "thing"
...Hah! as much of a descriptive term as I allow myself...Honesty...Honesty...Honesty. What reason is there for being if not to be wholly yourself ?
Perhaps it is just comparison, and fear. I think of the age of my Mother when she became a parent.
I think of how different the culture of family...of the individual is now.
Everyone is out for themselves. Everyone thinks there is always something better on its way.
No matter how good what they may have, it's never enough.
We throw away amazing things, amazing people. Because we have ideals, and we are stupid.
We think everything we could ever dream of exists. (maybe it does, and maybe it can...I listen to myself speak- all the while thinking "you, you are not really this cynical... you are a romantic. a dreamer...)
We think, we learn...that we are all of us, made to be super in our own right. (maybe we are, maybe it is our idea of what is super that is the problem)
But it's bullshit.
All of it is bullshit.
I was afraid. That is the only real reason I can fathom.
I was petrified of a child. Myself.

And that fear made me adult.
 

Sunday, 2 November 2014

And Now, You Are Found.

I listen. Ben Howard haunts my ears with his shades of blue. I wonder should I stop him.
But I let him keep on. Reminding me of what is gone. Conversing in my head with the ghost of us, as to why it can only stay gone. About how I am trying to let you let me go.
Even though it aches. Even though I long for what we once were.
The vividness of our memories if I allow them,...swoop in. Do not cut at me like knives, there is only grief. My heart feels such a pain, that I can only shut you out. Because no amount of tears can bring it back. The way I used to feel. It seeped out over time, and it was not your fault but mine.
The faults in me.
We lost it baby. And I know. I know the hurt I left you with.
These walls I build. I work to dismantle even as I feel myself placing down the bricks.
But being alone...is peaceful, and safe. I cannot lose anything if I never have it.
And I cannot cause pain if I never belong anywhere.
It's a childish notion born long ago. To unlearn it...I work...I dig into my soul.
And it hurts. But...
I do not believe anything is impossible.
Or at least that's what I tell myself.
I know that you look for my words.
I wish I could be what you need me to be.
But I have at long last learnt,
the only person I can save is myself.
And I'm trying.

 

Monday, 8 September 2014

The Shallow.

Fill me up with nothingness. Your pretty words. Falling meaningless to the floor.
Leave me empty when you go.
You fool, girl. Letting him so close. When he uttered all those fateful phrases...
"trust me..." My gut. it swam against the tide.
I disappear, under waves of black. I do not fight it.
Not as I should.
Too many times...I fight the urge to hide beneath my covers and stay there.
Shut away. Because people strip my soft soul bare of it's flesh.
I wonder why people do it. how they do it...
Tell you tales. breathe you in, as though it were something...
Something with substance. Peeling at your layers of defence.
Pick someone else, pick a harder heart to play with.
How do they do it?
There is a danger in those lonely ones.
Seeking comfort in someone who does not know
How to protect herself.
Who does not know, how to place conditions upon feelings.
I used to think, I could swallow up everyone's sadness.
Lock it all away.
As I did with my own.
But nobody minds.
Nobody minds feeding you their hurt.
I feel it. creeping down my spine.
Cold in my veins.
And I sink.
Drowned only by myself.


 

Wednesday, 27 August 2014

It Is What It Is.

 I stood there. Staring out at nothing across the tracks. Empty of intent, entirely...empty...
"what's the point?..." ...
I drift off mid-thought. swerving into somewhere that feels dangerous. A place made darker by its lack of melancholy, its lack of any feeling what so ever. So matter of fact. So cold.
That it sends a shiver through me, or at least it would. If I gave a shit about anything at all right now.
 I reached a certain level of acceptance. Acceptance of the fate that- this- this is what it is. Life is this. And people... Well people are the way they are...
 Ahhh...but acceptance means fuck all, when you are such a hopeful naïve little idealist! It means bullshit.
I know, but I do not want to know. I want to believe, I wish to trust that we are all a little better.
That we are all just a tiny bit lost,...
But what the fuck does it matter?....
What does any of it matter...
Ahhhh...here I go again. Along this pointless path, no place to go. no place to end.
But, to end.



 

Monday, 18 August 2014

Clouds / Why On Earth Are You Still Awake Samuel ?

March 2013.
Finally I come to the time I can sleep, but I cannot. After seven days working in a row. Deliriously heating milk too hot...drinking far too much espresso...wishing I was Samuel L Jackson...
Now, tired as fuck I sit half watching Lord of the Rings wondering what the fuck I'll do next with my life. I try not to search too deeply, get too intense. brushing over what still must be brushed over.
How long will I keep doing that? Not dealing with what I guess...I must...eventually. At some point.
Do I? Maybe I can just sweep it away, pretend it never happened. Stop going over every stupid detail.
Forget his face. Forget his voice. Lose it somehow. Lose myself.
I have always been so good. Tried so hard to be everything to everyone that they could need. I wonder what it is I have missed by being this way. Living like a shadow. Pretending that nothing ever hurts. Nothing really matters... When the opposite is only ever the truth.
I'm alone. And it's too comfortable. Too easy to stay like this. Moving undetectably through in this strange cloud of outward silence. I don't want to look- for I do not want to see.
...see, delirious.... Perhaps it's the full moon....
 

Monday, 7 July 2014

Learn/Let Go.

Lover,
If you won't love me someone else will.
My Mind, and then my body I'll set free.
I will not miss your lips, your hands
They were never mine.
All the falsehoods,...broken plans.
The promises you never had to make.
Lover, if you won't love me
Someone else will.
I'll remove this leash
That I tied tight around my heart.
I wonder why I tried so hard
To keep you,
My body, and then my mind
Told me, I should go.
As I lay next to your sleeping figure
Wondering upon the distance.
All I ever felt was the emptiness of us,
This chlling cold.
You watched me as I fell
Fell for you.
And the callousness is,
That you could have stopped me,
When I gave you the chance
To let me go.