Bleeding into words to feel less of what you should

The circle of things and how we are tossed is inescapable despite our obvious roles

Closed doors and experimental accidents are foreplays leading towards the final act

How do I just walk away you questioned? Without a heart my dear.

So thank the past who have made destruction potent enough to cast a miserable state of a human to greet you.

My sleeves wipes your tears while I breathe my sorry's.

Don't make promises. Don't hold hostages.

You can't hold a heart from an empty chest.

I can't stay.

It’s lonesome through these glass doors.

You could scream all day and the obscurity does not fade.

Suicide is just a prerogative.

Why are you still here? Entangled flesh infused cryptic.

Haven’t you tried every detrimental activity within your accessibility?

You think you need aid but your conviction is unresolved.

Maybe you have been given the wrong prescription of reasoning so quit.

The taste of ash within the throat; cold bitter aftertaste.

Akin childhood memories; Haze of the forgotten.
As innocents we couldn't articulate the trauma that was imposed.

The revelation of scars never fades hides or resolve.

They run deep with uneven edges, penetrating every fortress, facade and flesh.

It gnaws mercilessly at the back of your head, like a bullet ingrained in your brains; No sympathy or empathy.

So how do you begin to heal when you have evaded?

Invalid.

Seeing doesn't help. Wanting is pointless.What you withhold keeps an interest high. Treat them bad to treat yourself right. Again another inverse relation.

So laying in a paid bed is no different; Just restricted by time. The four walls denies the hands of time to be evident. There is no light and you could be devoured into this non-existent vacuum. If limbo has to feel. It feels like this. What were you playing for? What were you paying for? One month from now makes no difference does it?

Hemorrhage in memory is salvation. As you forget you are remembered; Another wishful thinking for things to balance themselves out this way.

You felt the fabrics as you ran your fingers through tangible memories. This too feels familiar. One year ago on this same day and time, did you ever foresee your life to turn out this way. Overlapping time. Overlapping death all over again. You can feel the end as backward looking has never been this repeatedly cruel.

You still see shadows in your everyday's and the little detailed reminders in strangers you pass. Held back by an invincible thread. Even now. Even so.

You fought but chose a wrong that will live and be paid for the rest of eternity.

Downward spiral.

Past consecutive head-on collision.
How much of what you thought and felt doesn't stand the test of time when you encounter them again.
Strange isn't it. 
How does forever last in this ever changing world which is highly dependent on change to be a constant and relevance?
Those unchosen. 
To where we are in life. 
Such a significant gap and relief.
Some things are meant.
Not to happen.

Cold surgical room. Mavis. Some paths are crossed once. Till the next threads align. 

Strangers in a room exchanging topics of the everyday. I was to feel no pain; on the contrary part of me was removed and deceased. 

Through the minor gap I gazed in her direction letting the tears stream. She read my pulse and knew I was out of breath. Nothing but the smell of blood and scrapping flesh. Going under the knife was saying goodbye. 

My body was an experiment. 

I hope to see you again to tell you how much that meant.

In the dark.

I was holding her in my arms, whilst covering my mouth not to make a sound.

Fear. Fresh and gripping. Paralyzed.

I don't know who she was but I wanted to conceal her from those demons.

My only defense was the pistol in my jacket. Do I take their lives or ours?

We ran multiple floors and into a black hole.

Yet our breaths sold us away.

We were exposed and the execution flashed...
I was hauled into reality.

Who are you?

Come back.

Counting down stops through diminishing lights. 
Time is a beautiful slow dance, it is nature's revelation of our soul. 
What will be your last thoughts if your life is coming to an end via a public announcement system?
We are flames waiting to be extinguished. When more are gathered we become an inferno. 
Its been almost a year I'm glad your still here my self invented catalyst. 
Remembrance is crucial to know that we are alive.
Catalyst; First exposure and taste to the other side. 
Even if I had one shot to rewind, I would had re enact the same way down that spiral.
That alluring spin off. 

There are many stories trapped in another reality; highly imaginative, vibrant and out of control. Scenes that you don’t remember come alive after you come face to face with them again. We seem to be living them when we finally ride a high and how often does that happens? They say if you can't avoid it, yield to it, but how far does that takes you?

That last conversation had evoked quite a number of emotions that laid in slumber. Angst. Speechlessness. A flutter. Time has made us coward. I’ve dared not act upon emotions. For its consequence is too much to bear. There's a shimmering disturbance at the corner of my eye and I will not be afraid. I see them still.

I know what I don't need. And that scares me quite a bit. What I need are next moments.

The same cloud takes over with the same hovering swell and rapture. I can't fight nor resist it still. I can try but I give in.

Your freedom should not hurt someone else.

Have you seen a deck of cards that could devour you on the inside? Innocent clicks are the cause of your acute pain running through your system. You swallow your hurts telling yourself that you shouldn't be feeling this way. You keep repeating, "Aren't I glad it ain't me on that stage". But you know you need to do more than that. It is not convincing enough with this entry taking shape in words.

This is the long dark night you have been walking without much light ahead to lead the way.

You only have enough to get you to the next destination.

It will forever hurt. Lesser each day. But still. Hurt.

And it will remind me everyday to cherish the things I never saw.

This is new.

The distance established and absence of proximity.

Nothing but a slow dance.

The silent wave of calmness taking sail amidst the wreck that never did quite came.

Tangled laces come undone as time unravels paths.
I've seen where you have trailed off and I remain in the sun.

I'll keep walking on...

Tell me I'm strange

Tell me I'm peculiar

I don't feel right with this void inside

You took my forever

In a downhill crusade

I think I thought wrong to say the greatest distance in life;

Was death.

Walls are there for a reason; What are yours? Aren't we all moving a little too hasty that we don't have a minute to spare? There are no walls to climb without you around. As close as I will ever get; my knees starts to cave in and I find myself running frantically in the opposite direction. But when I do return, everything has vanished.

We can't force another to fit the void that isn't their place to begin with. As much as I don't like to be forsaken... I am invalid. But that's the funny thing about solitude; It draws victims in and then destroys them from the inside out. Beautiful red.

Sitting there at the in between, breathing the salt and earth. You are still not here with me. Nothing but the wind, I still am. A constant blur and mess. If you must know, I am torn writing this. The moment when settling feels like an option, instead of the cliff, I chose wrong. Again.

In that perfect world, I would chose. Your sheets. Your outline in the distance. Your scent. Your curtain. Your hands. You.

I... don't want to get up.

Where do I go from here.

I hate this weakness. But I am made up of it.

In our dark obsolete spaces, we try desperately to wash off these stains, only we know the scripted story behind each scene. We weep in our silent cells. We try our best not to make a sound. But the flash backs keeps recurring in black and white, thick black bold borders and frames.

When words have ran away what do you do? Under the black skies, aren't we all lost too? We do not remember what was hurting or what was missing, we just lay still under water, floating on the surface, letting the surrounding envelope us in a sweet embrace as we take breaths.

Serene. I was.

Standing as one with the stillness enveloping me.

I didn't have to move from where I was, I could remain without an itinerary.

I didn't want to return nor wake from this dream.

I was beautiful.

Standing alone.

Resuming this skin is painful. Knowing how much you could do without and then returning to what you are made to live with. Stepping into a world without technology & lights has brought pedestal thoughts into place. You question yourself repeatedly how much will you give up of this to live in minimal. But then you fall into the same hectic again and all that was, was.

Everything in my life has been pulled like a rug from under me. I am falling like Alice. But there is no bed nor concrete floors or ceiling to cushion this drop. I am colliding into every piece of furniture winged at me. I cannot duck without gravity. I do not feel too well to be out of bed. But I guess a little crowd could do some remedy. I am not doing too good. And yes, I cannot do anything about it.

In a vacuum I scream without a vibration without a sound.

When I finally touched your shoulder with my bare flesh...

You were gone.

Like a camera, the focus was overwhelming. Too clear. Too close for comfort.

The fine details made me cringe.. instinctively my hands reached for my heart and chest...
A sting that lingers.

In the background wanting out.

I fade on the front
Obediently, blending into the only thing that is left.

We were running and I held onto your towel before meeting your hands.

You were wearing a yellow shirt.

I was chasing a dream then.

I left it to the gods.

And they tossed us together that morning.

Nothing.

But a memory now.

Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art—

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,

And watching, with eternal lids apart,

Like Nature’s patient sleepless Eremite,

The moving waters at their priestlike task

Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,

Or gazing on the new soft fallen mask

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—

No—yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,

Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

-J.K-

I feel the damage escalating. It doesn't fade. It amplifies. It rides. On everything. These are more floors than I have imagined, I didn't know you could reach up so high with such intensity. The lights made the spiral a memorable fairy tale like effect. The truth won't set you free, it chases you into the opposite direction with your own version of saving. Further into the ground you descend with the cold hard metal plates servicing your last stand.

You got off wrongly they said.

But where did you begin in the first place?

Hands were made to hold.

Even though I am only seeing, watching them now.

Guess it's true, things that you can 't loose are the things that you don't have.

Just like how reality last longer without it's actual existence.

The only place we pass each other in haste; never colliding.

And every time I hear the noise overhead, I wish I could capture you here.

At the in between.

Maybe we were the ones that initiated their downfall. We pushed them in the direction of this impending chain reaction. The fault should be on us. We thought it was adorable, rather that was how we created monsters in our blunder; visual inclination maladies.

You shot me a sunset, the least I could do was return a sunrise.

Tonight, I told my little heart, do not be bitter.

That was the birth of those cold chills which took advantage of that slit in my chest to seep in.

Desperate to string these sentences even more so to will myself to say it out in the open. He cries for her. What do I have to cry to. I feel like a ghost. Rather, I am crying to ghosts. The smudged yellow imperfections concealed these invisible chains put in place and time. This is driving me insane; I am in a constant struggle of the intangible which is sapping my physical state and conscious mind. It haunts me, having to stay and remain. I don’t seem to be going anywhere. A task that I hate. An emotion that is queer which I can never own and in every possible way wrong and forbidden. I am dancing in tragedies, stroking and fostering self inflicted wounds like a hospitality centre. How long does each distraction last? Before we find ourselves running to the next.

You know that feeling whereby you are everything yet nothing at the same time. The knife balancing itself at the flesh waiting for that slip to gash.

No one writes about the cookies that accompanies the tea.

They sit around the circle which was suppose to make them free.

It is wide and empty in circles unlike a warm cup that fills.

So life is like this cookie in front of me.

Renj

You greeted me today, rarely that ever happens. So what exactly do you want when you left your song behind? What do you have to offer or come to take this time. Without a heart, I can be candid to accommodate.

I know you can keep me even if it is just for the interim, that would be good enough. At least I would be kept in contemplation of attachment lest carnage.

I dared you to prove the contrary but you failed. You are just like the masses. You could not remain. You moved in accordance to my script, I didn't had to do much to chase you away into your next season of summer. Disregard what you did not know; I was this close in returning.

When your fidelity expired that became the finality of everything.

What is your drug tonight? I've chose Leftose & Paracetamol. They sound like reputable names for pleasant advocates whom compels comfort to the mind and body. It is acting up faster than I thought. My eyes flicker as it tries to stay conscious, sprawled out on my working space lies my provisions to write you out.

Your silence magnified your dishonesty, you were afraid your words would give you away. That was why I could never read you. I was dancing with your lies.

As my pen scratches the surface of fine paper, I make an attempt to will myself to breathe. I've been holding my breath all this while since you destroyed me, fearing the intake of air would shatter my remnants.

But it didn't. I'm still here.

Writing.

Still.

This is profane. He sought out my words and the offer was far too intriguing to resist.

So I wrote:-

I'm not backing out if you have to know.

I have nothing to offer as my soul is sold.

I cannot promise you anything for everything I own is fleeting and cold.

These should had been my spoken words but I cannot seem to find them when all I can see is your back facing me; So when.

Will you turn around for me.

We were discussing about a scene and I would fancy reenacting it in real life; Let's tweak the ending a bit. You the tracker and I, your victim. Our meeting would be my death. I wouldn't mind a bit. Being dead to the world. At least there is an end and finality to everything. In your hands that is. Beautiful.

Again I have to profess.

My fragility wasn't your fault.