Shadows At Night

It started where it began and it began where it ended, the first moment of the last thought that brought me here, to this, all of this everywhere and anywhere. I dreamed, I lived and in my turn to die I smile as within the blink of an eye I see all the things that was given to me as well as all of the things, in the darkening night, that were lost to me and broke me. I lived them, I cherished them all and as a friend of mine once said 'to die would be an awfully big adventure.'

My logic stands true as to the point I am both with and without any logic at all, isolated from the ways of life and society I am weak and sheltered but in my own way I am strong. For it is strength to be so isolated and bravery to speak to live, to dare associate myself with those that society and life chose to betray, even if I am by myself barely living at all. I survive. I could be exactly what I want to be, more than that in fact but I choose not to. Forced into choice of decisions that cannot be withheld, that cannot be obtained but then they are. In the dawn of the moment I realise what it's like to be something else entirely rather than just being me. I am more of two than I am me and I'm destroyed alone but together myself and I our own destruction. It is that we that dream our own sickening things, think our own sickening things and pained when they're brought out of me, tortured out of my one. I caged us once and I managed to keep it at bay, even though it gnashed it's teeth, clawed, yelled screamed and deceived it stayed in it's cage but then it got free and the only words that it speaks is 'you have no strings on me.'

Now whatever caged it before contained it for a time to therefore define it and all things aside as I lay there trapped in my own torment we are one. The eerie silence before is no more and so many thoughts creep into my mind, thoughts that I couldn't surrender to sanity and in the deepest and darkest parts of the night I find my shadow and suddenly I'm unafraid by what else awaits me. What else could be worse than this? I think to myself and in answer I know that nothing is.

I am but a shadow alone in the dark and what do shadows do? They hide.

The Girl By The River

If I close my eyes can you see me? If I stand there motionless can you feel me? I feel nothing, nothing, nothing of what's hope, deprived,  longing, thriving. The thing is that I really miss you, standing there with an  outstretched hand I feel nothing but the mystic air as I try to reach for a hand that is not there. Reach, reach, reaching out to touch your hand once more, your memorable touch a thing I used to lust a comfort to me now in the cold, dark rain where I stand there hand outstretched towards what would be you, waiting, waiting, waiting for you.

A Growing Pain

THUD, something hit my head and I shut my eyes, winching in the throbbing pain. As my eyes slowly opened my head spun, eyes blurry as if the whole world were spinning all of a sudden. My hands clawed at what I thought was the floor but instead I felt nothing but vacant air. Just then something hit me again, and again, on my back, on my shoulders and I fell to the floor just about holding myself up with my hands on solid ground but kneeling down. My whole body shook with terror, bruised, weak and burning as I was from each and every iron hit. I saw the grey floor, black shoes and trousers from the person standing in front of me, tempted to look up I managed to resit the urge for now gazing back down at the floor once I dared to look higher than his ankle.
"What do you want from me? I asked, slowly chancing a look to the person that stood looming over me. That person was a man and that man was smiling a twisted smile.

 

My Notes

There is no apparent reason for this piece of writing, just another thought that brought me to writing this in a daydream once upon a time, a very vivid daydream but non the less as always please let me know what you guys think! ;)
Until my next post cya!

Remebering

As I close my eyes I tried to remember the air of the ocean filling my lungs with it's saltiness, I tried to remember the colour filled scenery, the golden sand and baby blue ocean, a picture of perfection against the shore. I even tried to remember the pink clouds drifting in the moon light sky. I tried to remember the voice of the ocean echoing it's faintly sweet song as it sighed to and fro across the perfect sand, I tried listening in to the laughter of birds, the joyful cries of the mer below. Standing here grey rain clouds entangled themselves around me and it was cold, the air was dank with the stench of rotting fruit that lay spoiled in the murky grass. One could only dream and remember what was but the truth of this was that this was reality for me now, now matter how much I longed for my better life; a better life...my home. A tear ran down my cheek.
"Remember." A voice told me and that's when I turned to find a tall lean boy with autumn blue eyes and blond messy hair. I knew this boy and now he stood before me, fully dressed, for once, wearing a navy blue blazer, a red scarf which covered whatever top that he wore underneath which would've been visible and black trousers. As per usual he wore cream sandals instead of the ordinary shoe.
"I've tired everything to remember but nothing is working!" I told him with tears filling my eyes.
"Hey..." The boy started to say to me stepping close to me as he pulled me in his arms.
"...everything is going to be okay. I promise." He continued to say pushing me away slightly as his hands touched my cheeks and his thumbs whipped my tears away.
"...but how can you be sure?" I asked gazing up into his eyes.
"Hey it's me and you know me we'll find a way for you to remember again I'm sure of it." The boy said smiling.
"Okay." I said, falling back into his arms again.
"Okay." The boy repeated as he held me in his warm embrace. 

I. Mean. You

I am a servant of God, a person, a girl, a writer a best friend, a close friend and just a friend. I can be a bitch and I can depressing, I can be dirty, I can be rough but I can be lovely, fabulous (afrotastic) loyal, kind and caring. I can get hurt, I can get broken but I get stronger each and every time after... 'It's just nothing but a rough patch' that I have to get through a friend/enemy of mine once said. A lot of the time I don't feel the need to though...and I'm back to drowning again because I can see and I understand those things where visibility seems dim. I can see...

I am like a wild fire, rare and unique, unified by that formation, that is, until it's broken. I am like wildfire I can either be for you or against you but above all I'm as a dagger, deadly and silent. Thinking about it now...no wonder the A Sword Master can't be well associated with the Wielder of Daggers...we're just too deadly as death put together and even more so when only one is taken out! It's a sort of ultimatum that can never ever be resolved...I suppose that's why it hurts so much. To be apart for so long that you actually start to miss them, miss it, miss; missing the feeling of happiness once more.

It never used to be like this and I never wanted it to be this way...

I gasp, awakening from my slumber only to be welcomed by the gloomy darkness. It's still night but I wasn't dreaming...I was just trying to fix things all back together...but it won't, it can't. It's just unstable.

Talking To Myself

It'll be okay,
It'll be okay
It'll be okay
Until morning for through the night I can't sleep tight because everything is messed up and gory. In the end, I find my friend and they hold me until morning.


It'll be okay,
It'll be okay,
It'll be okay this morning.
They won't be in, they can't be in but then I hear a door that opens, in he walks and there I sit paralysed by every emotion.
I can't breath, I can't speak and it's all I can do not to hide away inside.
'I have control over you' he had said and in my state I believe him.
What? I say sire.
What will it be this day?
A back stabbing, inconsiderate laughter, a twist of the knife, a threaded suffice, something else that will make me broken again? Shall I call you a foe or shall I call you  master I do not know.
What say you sire?
What say you now?
You who will never know.

I always go back to them, I feel for them but not in the way as I did...too many burned bridges that will never fixed again. A part of me hopes  but most of me knows that it'll only be denying my feelings if I choose the burned ashes rather than waiting for another who can bring me life. After all you can't break something that is already broken, dimmed for all to see. It's a dangerous life to care; it's an even more dangerous life to care for me.

A Heart In Pieces

I think that the things you have to remember after being with someone for so long that to all of a sudden change from being with that person to being with another person is that they're not the same person, so they're not going to find pleasure in the same things as the person before them. That's the difference and it takes a very long time for you to actually see that enough to remember it, to be intimate without being the one that is thinking 'name used to do that' or 'I wish name was here.' I think above all you'll come to the point where you'll adjust to that and no longer remember that...until the day that you can live with it being more than just a memory but reality also or until you believe in it too little too late.

Sometimes it's going to be hard to explain why things are the way they are because of that special something that you had with them once and because at the end of the day you'll still go back to them, even though it kills you inside, even though you care and even though things will forever be complicated between you and them. They're the last person that you would call when your hurting but then again they're the first person that you'd think of. Someone told me once that it's just one of those things that you can't forget; that I am one of those things that they still really do care about. That someone was them, the one that is the last person I'd think about in emergencies and they're the first person that I'd think of when I'm hurting.