Wethinktoohard's blog

Sadness

What is sadness

For I have no sadness

only the memory of a treacherous beast

that one that slinks to your bedside

in the daytime

as well as in the night

when all is quiet

except

for the roving mind which turns

over and under the possibilities

of horrors I've never seen

but knowledge is a harsh

teacher

with an all to willing

student

Sadness

came and took my breath

it kicked me in the gut

it tore out my hair and wrenched back

my arms... fingers.

It left only pain, no bruises

no scars

and the memories that

haunt me to this day

Without trace or warning

Sad is a thing that happens

As often as the morning

For me

It becomes a daily

Routine of normalcy

That never fails

To come back home

To my heart's entrails

Just like the moon finds

Rest beneath the hills

Once more it climbs

When the sunlight dies

Then all of time stills

And the rest of the world abides

My soul grown weary

It will long for a keep

To rock it steady and soft

Until it forever can sleep

That have fallen to the ground

Where is he?
Gone, you say
Where is this gone?
Heaven, you say
Where is heaven?
In the father's arms you say
Which father is this?
God you say
I'm off to meet god.
Good bye I say

I'm so damn tired.

It's not really physical

At first

And my brain is just

Turning

Turning too fast

Then the tired sets

In

A real, mind clouding

Aching painful

Tired of the

Mind Body Soul

Sleep won't come

So

How do I find

Any rest?

I hated you

In my sight you were

Dead and smiling

I lament just to see

Your peaceful face

Because it's worse to be

In my sight and smiling

Than in my sight and dying

I really love you

In my dreams you’re

Alive and crying

I rejoice just to see

Your tear streaked face

Because it’s better to be

In my dreams and crying

Than in my dreams

And dying

(Side note: Does this actually make sense to anyone? O_o)

Le coup de foudre
Toujours inégal
Se retrouver, se quitter, regretter
Tu n'en as pas la moindre idée: tu me manqùes
Séparation

It's the kind of sad

That starts out numb

Increasing steady like

The beat of a drum

It's the kind of sorrow

That spreads over me

Building slowly like

The quaking of a sea

It's the kind of gloom

That fogs up the brain

Choking out life like

The clot of a vein

It's the kind of woe

That drags straight down

Pulling edges like

The corners of a frown

It's the kind of hurt

That slices out reason

Bitterly striking like

The words of treason

 I watch him lie there. He shifts in his sleep. He turns, and each time he turns, another whimper, another shudder, another tear escapes. The moonlight seems to strike him at an odd angle. Shadows shift, covering his back, his arm, his wrist. He flings a hand over the dew-covered night grass. The fingers uncurl, and there, upon his palm, another shadow stirs to life. He twists, and on his smooth bare chest there is an empty space of stars and blackness, deep, deep, something falling in the cold blackness, crying to be heard. He, himself, falling while I watch fascinated and do not move even as those stars wheel suddenly into the sky. I try to count them as they go, as they blur past the trees dappling the sky.
     I slowly and gently reach for his pale, elegant hand and hold onto it as my only salvation, as my only way to keep him safe. I sight softly and lay beside him, holding that hand close to my heart, never wanting to release it. I uncurl his fingers to fit mine perfectly between them. As I do so, I again look upon his palm. There in his hand rests a single star. I watch trembling as it splits to form two, one gliding with a small tingling sensation into my own palm. Then we are falling, falling into the cold blackness in his scarred sad soul...

Ever get that feeling where you're just going to DIE any second and there's nothing you can do to stop the overwhelming feeling and then you realize that you want it and that you just want the feeling to end and go away and it doesn't occur that snapping back to the reality forced into us as kids is another simple solution? Then again who wants to go back to that world- because even though you are going to die any second you're still freakishly aware of everything and everyone. Every little fiber of your being and it's panic and reaction. That "I'm going to die right now" is such a terrifying thing because there's nothing you can do to stop it from bombarding and overwhelming you and everything just closes but that feeling of extreme panic and certainty. Then you aren't afraid. You aren't afraid and then it ends. Just like that.

The darkness pushes down on me- squeezing every last drop of light from my soul. And I let it. I let it because I no longer want this. I let it crush my transparent skin, and grind my bones to dust. I do not care to fight anymore. I feel so old. Old and tired. Gone are the days when I can sing to the wind without the words choking my every fiber. Where has that lust and anger gone? The times I laughed, the times I feared. Laughing hurts, my lips cracked and bleeding. The darkness is all there is left, because pain is much better than nothing. Soon I wont feel the pain though, soon I'll no longer care. Rip out your heart and feel this embrace. My whole and my being, suffocating, not daring to breathe in your scent. Meaningless images are sucked away by the never ending dark. A cry cannot escape, my mouth is filled with the cold bitter darkness. Burning, scorching, cleansing through me. Searing pain murders me again and again. But I'm no longer fighting. The world going out not with a bang, but a small agonized whimper. I shiver and accept.

The second I walked in the door, I rushed into my room, and shut the door. I’m ignoring both the guys now, and I have been for the past hour. They’re a little confused, but have decided to give me some space. Wise choice for them, when I’m in a mood like this. Though I can’t thank them enough for their distance, I’d never let them know. The laptop hums quietly, warming my thighs. The headboard is irritating my spine, and I arch my back to crack it, stiffening when my Google search confirms my worst fears.

I hadn’t imagined it.

She’s here.

Groaning, I reach up and rub my temples, which have suddenly begun to ache most fiercely. My choices have come down to suffering through the pain of a headache, or suffering through the pain of explaining myself once I show my face again on the way to the bathroom medicine cabinet for an ibuprofen. In normal circumstances, I’d just suffer through, but I can’t avoid them forever. Actually, I don’t really want to avoid them. It would be rude, and I enjoy having their company.

No need to throw it away and have naught. Read more »

I grin at Phil’s comment about the hobo that lives in the bushes down the side ally we’d just passed, and do a single small skip as I walk. We’d been wandering through the city for a good few hours and I was feeling unnatural happy. For me that is. The misty air just has something special about it today- it breathed revival into my lungs, intoxicating my neocortex with some kind of foreign ecstasy. The only thing that dampened my spirits was the thought that my thoroughly dampened hair would begin to frizz soon, as it does so flatteringly when it dries. I roll my head back to look over at Phil, who’s smiling cheekily back, looking spiffy in that black “trench jacket” of his. By the looks of him, I could tell the fog wouldn’t dare put a hair out of line.

“What do you think?” I ask him, slowing to walk next to him.

He gives me a quizzical look, and I smile.

“Do you think this English fog will ever be at peace with my hair?” I speculate, reaching up to twirl a long strand around my index finger. “Or will it just keep attacking it like the foreign invader it is?” I laugh as he protests that I am most definitely not a foreign invader. Read more »

Still still anticipation
Locks my breath
Inside my catching lungs
Heart beat increasing with
Every lengthy second and
When the lights go down
Screams rise around me
Me, unable to make a sound
Eyes wide, lean forward, waiting
Screams fall
A crash of thunder shakes
My bones, hurls my soul, bursts my heart
The screams rioting, dropping
To listen, with me, swaying
Intent on the roll of thunder
Releasing a patter of rain
Quickening racing hearts
Whirling sticks over nimble fingers
Entrance at first sight before
Firmly snapped forward
They shatter my ears
As the thunder crashes over
Again
A small trill of a bird the
High pitched cymbal
Trickles away, to silence
A volcano of screams erupts
Searing light gleams down while
I remain caught in the spell
Still, still, with anticipation

If a leaf should fall
Like the evening sun
To rest upon your eyelid
When the day is done

Then I find I must reach out
To brush the hopeless thing away
Then lean far back from you
Before I'm tempted astray

Your face so sweet
So filled with youth
Quite like a light in the dark
I am drawn to your truth

By my glance you ensnared me
Encaged by selfish desire I remain
Admitting I adored the sweet torture
Before I even learned your name

Yet the distance between us
Of which you don’t even know
It tears my heart and mind
Thrice the pain of a physical blow

Just one more precious moment
To sit, still, by your side
Is all I can dare request of you
No more, for I can’t be rid of my pride

If your gentle eyelids should open
Why, then you'd never see me
Hidden by my own hand
Away to night I should flee

Of course things never really
Go just as they're meant to
I might decide to stay
Forever lovingly observing you

And when the morning sun
Peeks over the hills so clear
It then, truly, will be my time
From your life to disappear

I hear myself gasp, as I sit bolt upright, right hand flying to my mouth to stifle the cry that is pushing out of my lips. It is trembling- I myself am trembling, I come to realize, in the few seconds it takes me to realize that it was over. The dream is gone and I am okay. Glancing over at my clock, I punch down on the switch that lights up the clock face, reading three ‘o clock. The soft glow of light fades, and I feel my chest heaving, lungs eagerly pumping in the cool air that this room had circulated since my arrival three months ago. More slowly, I realize that I’m drenched in sweat, a few wisps of long brown hair plastered to my cheeks. This fact makes the room seem a lot colder than it usually is, and I involuntarily begin to shiver, thoughts returning to the dream still so vivid in my head. A sudden panic plunges itself like a freezing knife, straight into my heart, and, eyes wide as they adjust to the darkness, I swing my legs silently out from underneath my tousled sheets, and press the soles of my bare feet to the carpet, not a thought in my mind that there might still be loose needles laying around from my sewing extravaganza at eleven ‘o clock last night. All my panic stricken mind, my adrenaline filled body is focused on right now, is whether he’s really okay. Please, please… I beg some power above me that it really was just a dream, as I silently yet swiftly cross to my door and ease it open, continuing right, down the hallway to the room next to mine. Read more »

Fortune's hand
Has run dry
Accursed land
Condemned sky
Triumphant screams
Sound above
Dismantled dreams
Drown out love
Cries of Hell
Heaven's bell
Without a sound
Fire reins down

But whose?

I loath it.
Crying- my lowest form of extreme emotion
It's a game
Crying- to see how long I can resist it
I'm near breaking
Crying- wondering when it will finally win
I need it
Crying- my lowest form of extreme emotion
It's reality
Crying- to see how long I can resist it
I'm holding it back
Crying- wondering when it will finally win

  Read more »

I've just got some thoughts I need to get out.

They're quite disconnected, and REALLY LONG, so I advise you strongly to prepare your brain.
Now that I think about it- I'm going to split this into at least two posts... I don't think anyone has the attention span to read through all of my ramblings, and not chop off their own head...

First off- I love predicting when the world will end. The matter is one of amusement for me, mostly becasue I don't really care when it does if it does. I'm not scared to die, to be put to the test of survival. It sounds like fun! Today is 3/11. Remember what first year anniversary that is? Disaster in Japan. So my new theory is one that I haven't entertained seriously, or for more than five minutes- literally. The world will end when months multiples of three all have disasters on the eleventh. Voila- nothing really interesting about that. So congrats if you actually have read this far.

The thought of death is such a terrifying thing to people for some reason. I don't understand why. I suppose it's because people fear what they do not understand. Am I backwards then? To embrace what I do not understand and attack it feverishly until I do? If I don't, is it odd that I sink into depression, and anger, not at the thing that will not let me understand, but at myself, because I AM TOO MUCH LIKE THEM.

Because the more time you spend around something, the more you become like that thing, whether it is a person, or an animal, or for god's sake, and inanimate object? Read more »

Fall asleep
Mt little one
The monsters are
About to come

Dry those tears
My little one
While Momma sings
Away your fears

Shut your eyes
My little one
The monsters die
In daylight's sun

So drift away
My little one
And pray the morning
hurries near

Now fly away
My little one
You'll be okay
Light brings the day

Start writing and don't ever stop
Even as your hand breaks
Even as your eyes bleed out
Even as your sanity drains away
Start writing and don't ever stop
Even when you feel like lying
Even when you want to stop
Even when you fall asleep
Start writing and don't ever stop
Even if your
thoughts
run
dry

Officially
My muse has
Left me
He never promised
To stay, no,
But I grew
Dependent
On him anyway
To think I
Actually needed him
Just to get through
Each exhausting day
Make me feel
Pathetic
It's not like
He led me on, no,
More like I
Led myself on
Foolish hope
Comes back around
To bite those
Who dare depend

Forget me not
You're the only one left
Forget me not
I'm the only one left
Forget me not
You've been stalling forever
Forget me not
I've been waiting much too long
Forget me not
You can't just leave me like this
Forget me not
I'll die without your touch
Forget me not
You scare me when you're quiet
Forget me not
I quake when I'm still
Forget me not
You've gone another way
Forget me not
I'll see you again someday
Forget me not
The world around me crumbles
Forget me not
The story's coming to a close

How many hours go by

Where we don’t know a thing?

How many secret detectives have we passed unaware

Of the danger lurking so near us?

How many faces have we seen

That will, in the next 24 hours, never be seen again?

How many cries for help

Have we notices, but refused to hear?

How many sorrow-filled eyes must we meet

Before we find compassion enough to help?

Perhaps until the end of the world

Or perhaps

On some faint hope

Only until tomorrow

This is an intro for a role play I started today:

Fifteen weeks and fifteen days

Fifteen pains and fifteen plays

Fifteen years vanished then

Fifteen seconds to begin again

Fourteen days and fourteen hours

Fourteen stars and fourteen towers

Fourteen years vanished then

Fourteen seconds to begin again

Thirteen hours and thirteen minutes

Thirteen falls and thirteen gimmicks

Thirteen years vanished then

Thirteen seconds to start again

Twelve minutes, and twelve seconds

Twelve oversights and twelve elections

Twelve years vanished then

Twelve seconds to begin again

Underneath

All that ugly

Is something

Beautiful

Underneath

All that idiocy

Is something

Intelligent

Underneath

All that insecurity

Is something

Strong

Underneath

All that dirtiness

Is something

Pure

Underneath

All that pain

Is something

Hopeful

Underneath

All that cold

Is something

Warm

Underneath

All that sickness Read more »

What makes you think... that I'm remotley special?

What makes you think... that I've got somewhere to go?

What makes you think that I'm some kind of inspiration?

What makes you think that I need someone to hold?

It's because I'm intuitive... isn't it?

It's because I've got huge dreams... isn't it?

It's because I've been to hell and back, isn't it?

It's because I notice you, isn't it?

That doesn't mean that I'm remotly special- it means I'm a creeper.

That doesn't mean that I've got someplace to go- it means I'm doomed to fail.

That doesn't mean that I'm some kind of inspiration- it means I'm menatlly unstable.

That doesn't mean that I... need... someone... to hold?