this time i let go
because i am holding on to words that do not matter
so i step out and fall off the cliff edge of my mind
another mental suicide that never meets death
the loop of mental purge
and this time it comes for once in a long time
without guilt nor regret
and i finally see a glimpse of who i killed with my bare hands and buried
in a grave i dug for myself so many years ago.
i see for the first time that
the immortality of mental death
is a phenomenal thing
it scares me but somewhere in these alleys that now form
across the map of my mind
are familiar and revisited
catharsis through the purge of all thought
i empty the cache of my brain
and start again
to tell stories that i could never put down in words
here's a thought that just crept up;
perhaps i will never live
as much as i think about death
- whatever that fucking means?
---
sometimes i lie in the throws of sadness
bowing to its conquer
and ache for an entire world, outside looking in
unable to shed tears because the rivers have run dry
and there is never a chance of rain in my being
that raises forest fires and only burns
a volcano that has awoken with wrath from its slumber
i begin to draw the map of my soul, trying to find sense
in this terrain of tumultuous being i have never met.
i kiss a reminder of love
and i recognise him, eyes
peeking shyly over burnt out and tired bodies
my mind gasped at the recognition and i see myself
reflected through the windows that his eyes keep open,
his weak point for predators, an opening to his soul
but to me, the place where people can run to when the war on love begin
eyes that shut when all is pain on the outside
and will contribute to the solace that we all pay rent for to the evil corporates of the mind.
in this moment, i am selfish, and i kiss a soul i know
can see me too
in this houseshare of
merciless and unforgiving pain
and deals with its aftermath everyday
the aftermath of pain can only be pain,
and we are the vessels that carry this viral entity
and because we meet in simple clarity
we are without
all of what we carry
the pain is phased out and silent, and i see only a soul
that vibrates for all the beauty of the world
and we hold each other, both just as mistrusting, both just as scared
ashamed, scared, vulnerable - already casting off the purity of what we feel in that instance
i laugh and i see so much of what the world has done to us
and in that moment
all i want to do
is remember how to truly love.
that was all i ever wanted, you know
before the hate
before the coldness
before knowing hearts, ribs and dignity could break into pieces that still remain unrecovered
by the people that say they love you
like MH370, like stolen artwork,
like items that fall out of a moving truck
like the person i once was.
and unrecognisable when you see it, a stray
a whisper
a mere memory i try so hard to keep forever in an impermanent world.
irreparable.
all i wanted
was for a world that could hold
the ones that feel it all
because the ones that feel it all
try to hold all of the world in their hands
because holding onto the world
is the only thing that will stop them from
disappearing into themselves
until they are nothing but a whisper of
a language nobody speaks
and nobody understands.
all i wanted was for love to take the wheel
to teach us and remind us that there is more
to the hurt and loss and loneliness
more than the bad press of love, construed by people who govern the tangible world and rewrite what Jesus was really trying to say
the people who rewrite what love means
and makes you forget how to understand another person.
trying to break the shied wall you and i and others like us have built
to protect the intangible part of the world
because we are the warriors that guard it
with our armour of endurance, pain and knowledge of battle
because we fight for love
and love is all-encompassing
never to be touched by sticky fingers
and the politics of thought and doubt.
all i wanted was to be part of the truest and purest
of life
to live, in a life that proves to me it is worth living
because i really tried
again and again to prove
that i want to live it
and at some point
it would be fucking nice if that was reciprocated.
sometimes my entire being aches
knowing that our battle will be forever
because humanity has been replaced by
government
society
advertisement
distraction of our selves
and too many have fallen for it.
too many are blind and unloving,
fearing the hardship of remembering the worth of being.
i want to know what it would feel like
to know that i will never hurt again
i want to know what it feels like
to smile without the anticipation
of backlash
to know that all i do and say and feel and read and receive
is not a distraction but pure truth.
the consequences of feeling happiness
is sometimes too fucking much to bear
do you remember when you first realised when you learnt mistrust?
do you remember when you lost the smile that lived in the tickle of your eyes, and the curve of your lips
and when learnt that some things that break
are simply left broken
and that is simply unnatural
and unforgivable
and i wonder
time to time
like tonight when my mind is screaming
against itself
and i ask
who was the first to ever break a heart, a being, a person
and who was the person who took it all?
i want to know whose heart was first broken in our world
and i speak to them, into the night
i ask for forgiveness, reach out to the ether
and kiss them
and apologise to them for our ability
to create darkness that is darker
than the shadows that are only casted by the moon.
and tell them i love them
even though i do not know them
and i tell them that it should be
and only can be
that people must die from their hearts breaking
and their soul ripping away from a physical feeling
they do not understand
the first touch of pain
should kill and only kill.
and the only remedy, the only feeling that one must feel
is the worth of themselves
i will end this poem with a quote
because no one will every say it better than them
"what is life without a purpose?
and what is purpose without love?"
i plead to my readers tonight
do not ever feel alone
and if you do
it is a lie
if you do
you have to lie to yourself
with the truth
know you are never alone
even when you walk alone
and know
that i am there
writing this horror of a poem
wondering if someone else is also doing the same
because it feels simply and utterly shit
i have learnt to tell myself i am a waste of time
i know how you feel but know that it is a lie we tell ourselves
to fit in a world that does not have a place for us
because we fight for a world
that has never been given a place in the universe
we are the new and improved
and will bring love to this plane of the universe
because this is the only reason
we as humans
in a broken world
exist
do you understand me?
