Step in this shoes
Walk behind this shadows
Come...
Trail this voice that barely wisp in your ears.
Now we're walking past the past
Dragging these lead weighted feet into January
And as you blink away...
Fuck it's April.
I didn't know how broken I actually was until yesterday.
When my boss stared at me in disbelief,
"You could had easily took this out without calling me! You totally underestimate yourself!"
The words didn't sank in till last night.
I felt like an absolute fool.
Why did I shortchange myself over and over again?
I blamed it on the long stretch of calls.
I blamed the events of the past week.
I blamed my inadequacy.
I blamed it on everything.
And mulled over it through the night.
It couldn't get more unhealthy than that...
I was burning out towards the end of the week.
But unlike last time, I couldn't see it till it hit me.
I kept telling everyone I'm good. But it showed.
It is so tiring to get to this stage again. The slow down of the inertia.
When all I feel like doing is give up, and continue thrashing my already battered ego and flop under the covers.
I am a runner.
And a coward with not much of a character.
And I absolutely abhor the people who saw right through me and dish me out with the facts about myself
Because I am still denying how helpless and weak I am.
I built that persona that you see. But I am not that persona.
That glimmer gets transparent in times like this that I loathe every bit that gets through.
Funny, how nothing much changed even after all this years,
In different company
In a different capacity.
I am still this alone in this shit.
My head always produced the most brilliant of dreamworks when it's troubled. Or idle.
And my idea of a great dream is one that is dark, and one that I can wake and re-live over and over again .
And today, there is this one I'm still hung up on. It was a tune which started in my head, but when I woke, it was playing in my ears.
The lyrics was lost when the lids flew open. But I wrote a new one nonetheless.
Lone night, I'm coming out now,
Here lies, the memories ajar,
And here we're, dancing in the moon.
You take my hand in yours,
The words, they're slipping away,
And I have nothing else in my arms.
Why now? And what you've done?
For I can't wash, this stain away.
Glasses are strewn, and my box is torn.
But you, you are long gone.
Here we are again..
I hate funerals, and all that camaraderie we have to put up with.
Or the ones we have to put up for.
Or the days of slow
Or the drums of the repetitive rhythm
Or the same faze of discontent
How weary one gets after a long day.
I wonder how long this stint will last this time.
I hope the dreamers are working hard.
My mind is filled with void once again...
Work hard dreamers, work hard.
Sunday crawled in some 10 hours ago
But the crisp mist still lingers, reluctant to leave the mountain tips.
It was unnerving having flocks of crows waiting to dash at your screen,
Despite the empty roads in a crowded town.
Felt like coffee and a plateful of grease 10 minutes ago
But now that I'm home, all washed and scrubbed.
Food didn't quite seem like a feasible option anymore.
Where is all the tubs of ice cream in the world when a girl needs one?
Feels like poppies today...
I can see the rain fleeting away
And monochrome in the white sheets
The empty table and chairs.
The lost touch is lost
Nobody is listening anymore
We can tell, we can see.
You are one.
I am the only
We are comfortable like a definite future
So comfortable
I had to cling on the first day
Because the first day, first time was the most beautiful of them all
Standing at the roadside, parading a wreckage of metal.
All the lights are blinding, the stops and stares, unnerving.
I can hear the shakes of head, and see the feeling of disappointment.
That night, the moon couldn't have shone any brighter.
But the heart and mind is already lifeless.
Not of shock, or fear.
Because secretly, secretly I had hoped for a different ending.
Why? Maybe because I had started numbering my days.
The sirens and panic in his voice dumbs down to a calm of chants
I'm kicking pebbles by the roadside
While people look at me and nod with sympathy
Sympathy I need not
The ticking couldn't get any slower,
I'm standing in a crowd but I cannot feel the presence of me in the masses
The world has already begun to separate the entity from its place.
Funny. My dreams do come true if I will it.
That one day, I couldn't think of anyone to call. I realized I don't have anyone I want to call not after what came after. I have yet to find my panacea. Love and soothe somehow never promised to come hand in hand.
I am your bitter child, born and bred in angst. All I need is someone to help me douse that great pit of rage inside when I'm mad, be the balm to my insecurities and the gust of wind to carry away the burden of my chest.
But every time I'm choking on the tightness, and every one else is just watching and smothering. I can't tell you how to help me. Because I don't know how. And then I realized, I'm asking the impossible from everyone. The world hasn't wronged me, i just told myself so.
Felt robbed. Robbed of simplicity, and of peace.
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