Tuesday, August 25, 2009

The voice inside


She locked away your heart,
Filled it up with concrete.
Took away your dreams,
Dreams only bring you sorrow.
Listen to your mind
no need to talk around
our life is going down
i hate the way you make me feel
dont want to chase after you
cant take it anymore
no more.
Saw you walk out the door
I lied to myself saying,
i don't need you
i don't want you

dont want to lose my self in the look in your eyes
just want to be free from your lies
cant wait till you leave from now on ill be free
i will redeem myself and listen to no one else
i will find myself and not lose it agin
i will lose this broken soul and gain a new
and prove to you that i don't need you
-By Lee-Sol: emailed to me about this blog. Thank you for your support, and reading. -The Flawed one

I felt i could see her, even though the pain was tremendous.
I was sitting in my room dressed in black pale as white cold as death all my hopes drift by like dark dreams. I look up
at my own eyes. They resemble black mirros of the day as my willpower allows a crimson tear to fall down my face.I sit alone thinking how only one sentence got me here, after waiting for what seemed my whole life, I thought today would be a bright new day, with her. Instead it is a new day, without her, without us. I imagined when I asked for forever I would be making her happy, not giving her reasons to be without me. Maybe i was worng? Maybe i did not judge her feelings correctly. I rarely second guess my feelings, I rarely feel confused about feeling. How can i be wrong about what is inside of me? How can i misunderstand all the things she said? Was she lying? I looked at myself, and judged my withering reflection as though an inner monologue was judging me in tattered words made for destruction and built poetically to make the pain greater. How can such a confusion colour my eyes? I heard the voice speaking.

He felt as though he posessed a harmful mouth but can't open it. It's been sewn shut by the lies of others. He blonks to release more water. He blinks his marble black eyes as he stands up but has no movement real to a memory, rather a drift from one place to another. He touches his cheek he has a mouth a nose and eyes, he sees they are there. He imagines them falling off his face. Happines sprouts from his misery. Spiders surround him as memories and design a picture of the obvious. The tears grow rapidly and they too turn into spiders. Their legs quickly sprout and start to crawl all over the mirros, weaving between the glass. He puts his hand on the refelction, his cheek, his eyes. He notes his fingers have no nails so they bleed and leave murderous streeks down his cheek the blood falls to the floor on a white tiles, he watches the drops with his eyes. He's eyes regain a realistic focus and he looks back up to see an empty bathroom. His face is normal, the spiders have vanished. The drops of blood have moved, his hands are as he remembers them. This cruel fantasy that grew for the moment disturbed him. Shaken, he begins to think he needs to snap out of this. He has to move on.

He begins walking downstairs, skateboard in his right hand, bandana tightly weaved through his left hand, a distant beeping weaves into his single frames of thought. It is the message tone he assigned to her. He drops his skateboard, he clenches his bandana and runs to his room from where the sound has travelled from. He raises his phone and slides the screen to unlock it. The message long but straight to the point says something he didnt expect, he sees a tear leaving his face and meeting the phone in the distance. He wipes the tear from the screen and reads on. He drops to his knees as the message clearly speaks to him....

"Like a flower we live to bloom some flowers are brighter then others some are frail too but remember a flower loses its pedals like any other flower". -Me

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