What the eyes can't see... won't hurt.

[Epic Scene III: Characters in a Scene]

Just words.

Just like how we would destroy ourselves inside out. Leave me. Get out. Go. Run in the opposite direction, away from the route that I would follow. Flame your foot prints as you depart. I am the ghost of you. Seeking you out, in every shadow, in every picture, in every site, in every regret. Please. Go before I kill you. What will they be saying? We can't exist now. Do you know that? Or am I the only one who doesn’t know it? We won't be holding hands, we won't catch a movie, we won't be taking a stroll in the park, we won't do all that now. We won't. And you won't be there. As I won't be here. Because it is the end when that happens. In this reality, it will always be. It is the end when we walk out into the light together. There is no fairy tales. There are no happy endings here. The darkness and the unknown is the only future for our being. Do you fathom? Just like how you never existed or be seen in this pane, be gone just as you were. I am begging you. Clawing the walls and floors of the unseen. It will always be incomplete. And I will always be clamping my hands to my mouth to shut myself from weeping out loud. So that you won't hear. And I won't make a sound.

under the cut

[Epic Scene II : A little more this time]

She's not here today. I found myself walking under the shadow of trees, fixated at the thought that you might appear again, with that familiar slouch and shield eyes. There's nothing for me to work on today, so sleep I shall.

But I was wrong, was I? She was here, just away in a form of way. And there I go, like the cat. Mesmerize by the shimmering purple glow. Same colour again? What significance does it have to you? Would it be incense to be clothed in that body near you? Amazing isn't it? How all this is writing itself out. It's not you this time, I'm sure. But still, why here and now? Damn those obligations which I can't leave behind to answer all these questions.

This thrill and anticipation, have I taken this too far that I may actually start to hurt from watching. Since when did watching inflicted invisible paper cuts? So fast, quick and clean, that the blood comes faster then the pain.

Now let the chased start chasing.

Alright?

Under The Skin

[Epic Scene: As the mind writes itself out]

I keep seeing this splitting image of you in her. As she walks into the cabin, the air freezes slightly to make an entrance, to let me know it is her. A part of you, in her. Or the fact that your blood runs through her. Those minute details causes a stir to my instincts, but then again there is no point is there? It will always be my imagination. There are two different distances from my door, but which is it, is real? You take her features very well, the contours of her eyes, and the thickness of her lips. Do you talk to her? Or know where she is heading today? Funny, I have this sudden urge to head in her direction or destination. Now I sound like a sick pervert do I? Maybe one day I can be completely honest about my writings and what a sick twisted mind I have. Would you even call me romantic?

Now I can't see her. But just know that she is sitting across with eyes closed; is she dreaming or thinking about what is next to come? Why does she feel purple today? Cold perhaps? I know the fall of her hair and colour have changed, but why? To cut and live; or anew?

This is the moment where I depart. Goodbye sweet image of you. But she opens her eyes as I leave, and I slow down to watch her pass. Sick satisfaction I get in just watching and knowing. Maybe they don't call it fate in this part of our world, or country for a matter of fact. Then tell me, what should I call it?

As I fall behind, please don't tell me she is seeing you? Are you the visit or a job?

This is as far as I can go, or my eyes can see.

This is not right.

Knowing creates a comfort.

Not knowing brings about a fascination.

But we all know, that curiosity have always killed the cat.

passing

Can I give you back a song, in return for all of yours that you have given? Will you read what I have to say, and understand the words beneath the song. Everything. Is still undecided. So turn. Turn my grief into grace. Take everything away. As I face my demons again. I have nothing. But a run down half torn screen, still connecting my world, somehow. I don't know when it will die. Have I destroyed myself too far this time round? How do I come back now. God, save my soul. Because this is the final dance to my story. I can't remain a constant. I can't stay here. Help me take flight. I will die. I am dying.


What is the point? Feeling horrible and knowing that we are not going die from those feelings, that is the point. Sew the flesh, repair the damage, ease the pain. When life breaks down, when we break down, there is no signs, no hard and fast rules, we just have to feel our way through.

Wake

What if I said, that every time when I wake I have to forgive myself for it?

Out

[Epic Story - Out]

If you destroy me now, I won't forgive you. I don't know what other other words are left in the dictionary of my head or humanity or poetry to explain the depth of tiredness my soul is shackled with. I can't hold up anymore this time, I need to lean and fall, not down and out and off. And if I have to keep my hands on the knife to my heart again, I don't know how far in - it would go this time. Because right now I can't breathe, I can't think. Your words can't seep, what you are doesn't seem. So back off. Let me take my breath again. She shot a question where the mind can't help but put it on replay; that the warp up thing is knowing how the answer will write itself out.

script

Epic Story - Hush

Wake up she said, don't go there, you can't and you shouldn't. I felt her grasp, her breath against my skin. Was it me that shook or was it her. You can't slip this way. So stay. How many twisted ends and walls have we ran to be back here again. Isn't it time yet? No? When will it be enough for you. Don't strum these chords or sing these words if you are coming back here again. It is not fair. It is not right. So twisted and morbid we are, that it is all so very cruelly seductive at the same time. She clung onto me helplessly, pulling me in, shutting the lights, slipping off my skin and clothes... rendered me helpless to her touch. Hold me now, or break me forever. Hush... You are... my unfinished business.

- expiscate -

[Short Epic Story : expiscate]

With disbelief I walked in and out of each glass house. What was I searching for exactly? Something that was listened to? Something that graced our ears? I can't tell. How do they come to like the same taste and flavour of things in life. It is amazing that the only medium between time and space is a simple note. She sang all that I've sang. I can't help but choke at her words. I can't stop. I doubt I would fancy things as much as it is now. Because anything within reach isn't forbidden. What are we all searching in between these gaps and holes, it all just seems like clues intentionally left behind in time. Waiting, just waiting to be found. Have you found it yet? Listen.

smeared no more

What if I said that breaking up is the sweetest thing. It's a tear, a cut, a forced separation between two bodies, two souls that came together. Oh did they know that the coming was as hard? I think they didn't. Why is it sweet when simple things that remains kills. As tender as a scent, as soft as a breath is enough to destroy. And I know that when it ends, the writing comes as easy. I was in that place before where every song I wrote was for you. But I won't walk there now cause I've shut that door before. When it ends the memory begins. I heard that before. I lived that before. Have you? I know I won't be okay without you to keep me sane. Because I haven't been in a long while. Your the drug that I take now, and I suffer the consequence without you in my system. I'm not like those girls, those pretty little things, I'm none of that. But thank you, for seeing what you see. Or what you saw. Do you still see? How do one manage one, as one like that. I'll sing again.