November 28, 2008

It was a silent crying.

A crying where you knew it had to come out, but there were other people there ruining your catharsis.

I hadn’t been a friend.

I hadn’t held your hand at the end or told you that it was going to be okay.

And my last words to you were “goodbye” instead of “I’d see you again.”

Sometimes, I wonder what your last words were; I wonder if you thought of me.

I wonder if you hated me.

So my life’s goal became to bring you back.

I’d write you back to life.

With every character I created, a piece of you lingers within them.

Whether it be their ability to smile in pain, their kindness, or their pure heart.

I wanted to bring you back so I could hear you say you didn’t hate me.

And no matter how many times I write those words, they just echo in my head, meaningless and empty.

I wish I could say I was sorry.

So I think it and say it outloud, hoping someone might hear.

I’m sorry.

Conduits

Conduits.

That’s what we are.

Give us all your pain, your anger, and your sadness.

We’d gladly take them as our own, absorbing them.

Sure, we could use them. After all, I don’t have any of my own.

Tell me, what’s it like to feel heartbreak? I’d never know. What’s it like to hate someone other than yourself?

So you project onto us.

You fill us up with your negativity, and we let you.

Why? Who knows.

Why us? Who knows.

Inside of our heads, we ask ourselves these questions constantly.

Yet, only our makers know the answers.

So come, my friend.

Take a seat

Unleash your problems unto me, and let me heal you.

Because no one will heal me.

Help Me.

It’s a sad existence

When the voices in my head

Are more real and true

Than those of the people around me

I could feel my voice crash and crack

As I laughed

Snap

There goes the heart

SHRAK

There goes the mind

Life’s a bitch and then you die

Life’s a bitch and then you cry

Life’s a bitch and then you die

AND I THOUGHT YOUR BLOOD WAS ON MY HANDS

But I woke up screaming and crying because it was all my fault.

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PUSH ON WHEN I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF I HAVE YOUR SUPPORT

How…please just tell me how.

Some people look into the murky night and see light

Some people look into the darkness and embrace only that which surrounds them

What the fuck am I when I can’t even figure out who I am?

A paradox?

A LIE?!

AM I NOTHING?!

Tell me what I am.

I can’t eat

I can’t sleep

I can’t speak

I can only listen to the voices echoing in my ears and find comfort.

I can only recede back into my crushed subconscious

I can only wither away.

You Left Your Necklace

Your body had lain there just moments ago, our hands clasped, the TV going.

I saw you as my eyes blinked, drifting in and out of sleep. Your eyes. Your beautiful, sharp eyes were what I saw last.

And when you rose to leave, I awoke, heart feeling as if it were breaking.

I knew you’d be back and that I’d see you in just a day or so, but hours, in my mind, were years.

You leaned over to me, saying you had to go. Saying that if you needed me you’d shout.

In the haziness of my mind, a haziness caused by the collision of dream and reality, I heard you whisper.

My mind might have confused itself with my heart for I heard you say the three words that could wrench a man’s soul from his body or mend it.

I clung to that most likely false memory.

Words failing me, I tried to ask you to come back, but my tongue would not permit it.

So I fell back asleep, dreaming that you were still there next to me.

And I awoke once more, in a panic, in a frenzy thinking it had all been a dream. When I looked over, I saw that you had left your necklace.

I picked it up as if it were your own heart, and I looked at it, comforted.

Tainted Blood

The streets are empty and hallowed.
Anyone left with any sanity are locked away behind their doors

Others hunt us down, seeking the blood inside our veins, seeking the beasts they think we are.

But their minds are gone and mine will soon follow if I don’t continue on.

So I undertake this transfusion, raging against the dying of the light.

It burns. It corrupts.

I have no choice left but to undertake the hunt and end this night.

And as day draws near, the nightmare intensifies.

Are there any others? Is there anyone left to hunt with me? Or am I be cursed to experience this dream all alone?

They said that we were born of the blood, crafted by the blood, and killed by the blood.

But I live to find an end to the blood.

High and Far

We started as kids
Not knowing what we wanted to do

Not knowing who we were.

All we knew is that we had to leave.
All we knew is that we had to learn.

So we traveled High and Far
We traveled in search of ourselves

Along the way, we got beaten down
Crushed
Broken
And abandoned

But, at the end of every day, we still had each other

Through bad haircuts, bad judgement, and terrible jokes

We could sit around that jungle gym and laugh despite the bruises, cuts, and pain.

Even when our glorious journey ended
Even when we thought that was all

We kept meeting.
We kept laughing

We laughed in the face of danger
Poverty
And despair.

And I was never so proud.

Will of Fire

They clashed. Their screams echoed over the world. With their cries of pain and anguish, animals died, men cried, and children covered their ears. Yet, one stepped forward to seal the dueling dragons away. The king of those long forgotten people sealed them in a pit, hoping their war would never be brought back to this world. But of course, man is curious, and soon they’d be released.

This time was different. The Red Dragon flew up high above its White counterpart, diving down at it with a ferocity unmatched by any man or animal. And so it was that the White Dragon was cast down. Those villagers looked to the Red Dragon as a God. They saw it as a symbol.

And it was there that the Will of Fire was born.

Through no cunning.

No Wisdom.

Nothing but bravery and will

And a ferocity matched only by that of Y Ddraig Goch himself

They triumphed.

They formed their own land.

They knew victory and power.

So it would forever be that no man, nor woman nor child should ever give up.

No one would die on their knees!

All would live as equals, bound together by a Will of Fire.

They all knew that to give up would be to admit defeat.

And we’d rather die than surrender.

Our hearts are surrounded by the eternal flame of that great Red Dragon, and, with every beat, we feel those flames lick at our hearts.

And that keeps us moving on.