Have you ever been so sad you can’t sleep? Plagued by mistakes you have or have yet to make? No sound but the cat purring on your chest or the raindrops playing in your ear? Well let me tell you that in fact you aren’t alone. You aren’t by yourself. Waiting somewhere is a hand to clasp upon your shoulders sir, or pick you off from the bloody heap of shattered lies amidst the broken remains of your many masks. Hands clasp your palm stroking and writhing to intertwine with yours. One hand at rest amidst an orgy of fingers while another pulls away the dowel rod masque of the smile you wipe off every dreary morning.
little bird, little bird today you are the third what interesting life you live no person to keep you captive up in the air you fly to the gracious limitless sky living all the way up there as i wait for something on my derriere hold out my hand, our eyes meet we turn our heads, utter defeat With a squeak you fly away forgotten ‘til another day.
I’ve told people before that I’ve cheated people and they automatically assume that I’m a terrible person because I’ve betrayed that monogamy that is a stable relationship… aka “being cheated on.”
And that’s completely different from what I’m saying. I’ve cheated hearts in the past. Like… doing things selfishly for my own gain instead of being myself and caring for those around. I like the title of Treebeard as I like to think of myself a caretaker of those around me. Except those few “sheep” that I cheated and I can see them in the distance. Backs turned towards me while I watch their disappointed faces, burned into my memory, face another direction and walk away.
Like cracks in a scab I can see the pain I have caused in the slits of their teeth while they smile pushing aside the issues I had caused.
I just think that… “cheated on” should be replaced with betrayal in a specific sense so that when people say that they cheated someone people don’t assume things.
There’s a pile of brown snow across and everyday I stare at it reminds me of what it looks like when people look at me. Like no matter how good or “normal” I/we are in the inside you’re always just seen as a disturbance to balance of nature’s beauty.
Or as though we are bodies of normal white snow we are polluted by the destruction of civilization and therefore assimilated even though we just want to exist or stand around. And the only way to return to normal is to change to a different state.
Have you ever felt like you couldn’t reach your emotions even though you know they exist? For example… you’re in a bubble and tied to the bubble are strands reaching out for distances you can’t even feel but you know that they’re out there. These strands are, what seems, to be only manipulated by you. As you talk to people though you can feel the emotions swirling around you some bouncing off your bubble confusing, what you though was, your steady mind.
All the while you can sense that other people are different and allow the emotions to consume them as though they were trapped with inside their bubble either allowing people in or out and once in a while (whether they’re the center of the crowd or the ghost) their heads would pop with with an emotion around their head whilst the real emotions come crawling up their necks.
The way I’ve been feeling these past days is just me in my bubble. People around me to remind me of certain feelings that will appear in my bubble and will linger on until the day is over. But normally everyone says I just look lost in thought when in actuality I’m thinking of nothing but the beats in my head. It’s not a matter of losing control of my emotions. It’s a matter of me losing the observation to which emotions I should be feeling.