the appearance of calm

anything but, under the surface.

keep pushing, break even further, ignore the pain.

it's dark times, but I'll be my own fucking light.

and I won't be using it to shed light on the shadows you lie in.    

only as good as the culmanative effects it would have

percocet and vodka make such a lovely combination...

someone else says it better

***
I'm so tired of staring at the wall
But I know I got to put you down
And I keep trying to make sense of it all
But I can't keep going around and around


And your words float like dandelions every other way
I can't keep listening to what you say



'Cause I've heard it all before
I've heard it all before
And I take everything I can
And I'll throw it out the door




And it's too late for wanting
The best thing for me now, so walk by
And you can't keep saying the same thing to me now
So walk by

Everything has a reason for it
Everyone has a story to tell
Everything has a reason for it
Everyone has a story don't they?




Running out of space, I can't see your face
I've forgotten how you used to be
Saying that you love me, that you're thinking of me
Taking my identity




and you can't say that you see me
if you don't know who i am
you can't see that you need me
and neither one of us can be found
if neither one of us can be found




And I try so had not to notice
I try so hard not to care


I try so hard not to show this side of me


***

makes more sense than anything has in a long time.

justification without rationalization

steps down a path that you know you shouldn't stray to.  actions taken resulting in what could only be described as tragically fucked up habits.  fine. fine.  I know what I'm doing.  right?

put oceans between yourself and what grounds you; what keeps you sane.  replace them with vices.  it feels wrong.  add more and more until you can't feel.  then you've done it right.


I am hurting you, I know.  it's selfish.  but still, I block your avenues to me.  you reach, I pull away.  you call to me, I turn a deaf ear.  you question, and I give silence.  but for whose benefit?

I am missed, you say.  well, I miss myself too.



in truth, it fucked me up; but I am fucking myself over daily.  I wouldn't dare let you see me now, you wouldn't recognize me.  I don't recognize me.  

Défier

velvet and cotton dreams, mused about in the faded morning.  a decision is made.

I have earned the right to my silent reservations.

in this I am resolute.

at the end, where I am and where you are will never be the same.

I tire of the subterfuge inherent in my temperament

but it keeps a distance that I require; to survive

things seem grayer when the sunlight fades

but nothing is ever as bright as it truly seems when saturated in brilliance

striking a balance

buildings bathed in the angry hues of the dying sun.  emotions flushed to the surface then quickly drowned once more.  like a many faceted gem, different sides revealed to me in the glimmering light.  I guess it's all for the seeing, so long as you remember to look.

Outstretched Hands: Realities aren't what they used to be...

Sunlight, reflected off hardwood, stabs into my eyes.  Pull the sheets.  Blot it out.  Too late.  I feel the lonesome tug of longing for the days when the sunlight meant something.  When it isn't just a brilliant, shiny lie.  One used to gloss over the reality of our frozen wasteland.  Hibernating souls.  But not mine.



No.  My warring sides give me no rest.  The one welcomes it.  Happy the world reflects her sorrow.  Cold.  Desolate.  Unforgiving.  Pleased to share the suffering.  Sick.  Twisted.  Joyous.

The other rages silently.  Blinking back tears, refusing to acknowledge the muzzle on her mouth.  Pleading eyes at the distant sun, and at a land thousands of miles away.  I miss you.  Holding onto the remnants of tinkling laughter, a warm breeze through the air, and love.



The latter's thoughts shattered by the cruel backhand of reality from the former.  -That's not your life, and it never was.  You only got to borrow it for a bit.  This is where we are now.  Get the fuck used to it.-

Muffled sobs.

-Let go the romanticized visions of what we lost.  Today we carry each other.-

  

cold embraces, halves to wholes, resigned but solid.