I give up … I give in

My sorrows is a seductive … It feels pleasurable to give in to him … The rush of it when it invades me after being abandoned by every feeling is a drug that expands in my veins reaching for my heart in its clutch … I belong to my sorrows chained by the night no matter how many times I try to escape his love for my pale yellow face. I accept my fate to be yours and I vow to be faithful … I gave up resisting your domestic ways to claim me … you missed me haven’t you?

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Fragile thoughts …

In a corner curled up pulling my legs up to my chest … Trying to put myself together. In a breakpoint I am … Helpless and cold. My heart is squeezing my tears out and my chest is full of silent screams to not wake anyone up or because of my sore throat.

I have the urge to change my body, change my identity, change my country, the people and start all over again. I crave a white background so badly instead of this mess which I hate being in. I’m confused and fearful of things that are considered to be shameful.

Suffocated with fire burning inside I think … Will I be alone forever? Will this suffering ever end? I feel ignorant, frustrated and angry. I cover my mirrors, I avoid the truth. I am surrounded by ignorant people who pull me down instead of up. Even if I was blessed to have wings, where would I go to? To whom? Nowhere, nobody.

I fear the light because I was taught that it is wrong. I stay in the darkness because it is all that I’m used to know. What is it like to love yourself and accept it? Will I ever know? I have trophies, certificates but they make me feel bitter not better. I feel less in ever way.

I feel hate and apathy raising in me and growing like death flowers or evil children. Nothing means anything and nothing makes sense. I can’t I won’t …. Will I? I want to live but I am blind … How can I break free? Will I ever? … I can’t sleep and I don’t know how to go out.

I don’t have any value in my life because I live in a tomb. I never had Yeses in my childhood. It was always No, don’t, slaps, wrong, sit still, study, obey. I grew up in the shadows as expected and said No to all of the chances because failure was no option.

Why won’t you let me be me? Why am I wrong in every way? Why am I me? Why can’t I be let free? Why can’t I escape? Why am I here? Why can’t I choose? Why must I live? Why are these people contradicted? Why am I not worthy to be loved? Will I ever find the solution? Will I ever be lucky to take the journey? …

Maybe it is salivation in the way to numb my stings with a small tickle on my wrists or a gentle rope on my neck and a simple snap. Maybe I can walk it off with a run to the cliff and a jump that will be my first and last attempt to feel alive. I am in a grave anyway and this time food, sleep or redecorating won’t fix it.

“Where am I going? Where have I been?” Always gets to me …
I’m going to bed and I hope that I don’t wake up tomorrow because I have nothing waiting for me … I hope that I go to heaven in the end for going through hell once is enough.

I’m not sorry for everyone whom I have ever disappointed because I know that I can’t live up to your high standards. What doesn’t kill you doesn’t make you stronger and life doesn’t smile back. My lack of things is because of my leak and it is a scar that I have to live with. For all of you who want something from me, I don’t have it.

On the edge

Hello blue eyes … I haven’t seen you in a while. Last time I lacked the faith and courage, but I’m a whole new girl now. I grew up but I see that you haven’t changed, you have the same pure soothing depth that you had before.

I trust you with all of my secrets and burdens even though your only response is a comforting whisper, your calming smell and your trials of carrying them far away to the sunset. I feel you flow in life, I feel you break and merge and I hear you call my name every night.

I love the way your smooth fingers play on my face like the playful breeze and I love the buried stories in your treasure chest that you tell me. Take me in when I fall into your mysterious arms, embrace me with your weakness and your strength. Heal my wounds and wash my soul from my stains as I breathe you all in.

I have the need to dip into the darkness and disappear like the mermaid’s story in reverse. I want to float, to dream, to be free, to be saved, to live and to sleep. I’m just a step away … One more step to go beyond, to you, for my rebirth to begin.

*squelch*

Yes, it is me.

I got used to the darkness and I have made friends with my demons. I accepted the monsters who are inside of me instead of fighting them. Yes, I feel good about giving up. The light now hurts my eyes and I am too busy curing my headaches to dull the pain. Yet, I want to feel something, even if it is anger and loathing …

I’m dead rotting down here with false expectations and hope that is forever lost. I have lost the will to live and to be better. My fears blossom inside of me like flowers and I think they are beautiful. My kind sadness became my inspiration, I’m lucky that he visits me from time to time. I begun to appreciate my nightmares, for they give me better stories. My days though … They are all the same; pale, old, dusty and people are the wind.

My mind is filled with traps, dungeons and old castles with secret rooms and cold prisons. My thoughts are easily disturbed like the surface of the water, therefore I appreciate the screaming silence. I don’t want to be saved for there is nothing to be saved. I am the ruins; it is all black, burnt down, broken and abandoned. When you look in my eyes, you’ll see nothing for there is nothing inside, nothing good.

I’d rather stick needles in my heart than to feel neglect or attention. Poison runs in my veins instead of blood and apple chunks are cutting through my throat, I shall not speak but I shall release it from its leash to let it feed and grow from time to time. Maybe I have lost my self for good but I am too numb to care. Let it be, what is the worst thing that can happen?

Sadness is a part of the gifted

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/04/07/writing-challenge-fifty/

Sadness, who walked in the crowds, had an air of mystery and watering eyes. He was appreciated by artists as a muse to be drawn and wrote about. Actors would fake tears before him and public would clap and that made him fade but he still invades his loyal artists.