Mad at it All.

I'm tired of shedding tears.
I'm tired of writing tributes.
More so, I am sick and tired of doing both for people so young.
A parent shouldn't have to bury his or her child, neither should a child have to bury his or her parent without the grandchild by the side. God's promise says we would live to see our children's children.

I'm tired of hearing of cancer.
I'm tired of hearing of how lives so precious, so promising, are cut short as a result of it.
Coming without notice. Causing pain, grief and harm; giving a false hope of recovery, then snatching the hope and replacing it with a gut-wrenching agony.

I'm tired of the dread.
I'm tired of hearing a friend/school mate has 'the virus', then round of 50/50 that follows.
I'm tired of hoping, praying, wishing and stressing, while a terrifying shadow of the grim reaper hunts my view.
With no preventive recipe and no full proof treatment, its a fight between the devil and the deep blue sea, both one and the same, with only a faint distant ray of help.

Its not a person so one cannot hate it.
Its not a person so one cannot yell at it.
Its not a person so one cannot call a jury, find guilty and pass judgment upon it.

I guess I'm just tired today. Maybe because I just wrote two tributes to a very promising life cut short. Maybe because its the third time in less than 3 years. Maybe because I'm in the mood to dwell on the fact that life is such an unfair little b at times.

In the morning I'd feel better. In the morning I'd hope and pray again, because there is really nothing else to do.
For now, I am tired. So I'd just sit here and cry myself to sleep.

xo
 

Mirror Mirror

If you could only look inside of mi,
What you see and what you would see will be a flip side of each other.
For my outside is a cover,
Not perfect but a lot more so than the real mi.

Here is a piece of mi,
Hardly seems comprehensible that I am still holding on together.
From this image you get parts to make a part,
Tears and pain glue all together.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
What you see isn't always what it is.

Junkie for Pain

It's the waiting that is killing mi
It's the waiting that I hate.
It's the waiting that makes mi want to throw myself off a bridge and end it all.
It's the waiting that depresses mi
It's the waiting that hurts.
It's the waiting that makes the reality all too real and knife worthy.
It's the waiting that gnaws at mi
It's the waiting I dispise.
It's the waiting that gets restarted as soon as that re-blinking light begins.
It's the waiting that's anxious for mi
It's the waiting that kills.
It's the waiting that makes my heart race without a reason.

Torture

Tormenting mi seems to be the order of the day, week, month and freaking year. The funny part is I can't complain because it would be quite silly sounding....maybe I should go see a therapist but then what would I say?? 'Hi, meet the unlovable. Now fix mi?' Ok sure, I shouldn't say that but it is really hard....

It's not even sad as much as it is so bloody annoying....you know when someone is enjoying every minute of the torture he or she is putting you through. Where you can see the amusement your reaction brings, and as much as you hate to fuel that look, your emotions and your heart refuse to cooperate with you. 

But really though, why do I keep jumping back into the same pattern and the same routine?? I sink into depression, drag myself out, spend most of my life fighting it, loose and back again....
And through all of it, my heart hurts.
....
....

I want out. 

Just Enough

I love you enough it hurts my heart,

So much it maims mi flat

I love you enough it makes mi a tool,

So much the world sees mi a fool

,I love you enough its hard to breathe

.So much there is not enough air on earth

,I love you enough its hard to breathe

.So much I need air

,I love you enough it makes mi a tool

.So much I need a life

,I love you enough it hurts my heart

.So much the ache is my beat

.I love you enough....just enough for it to hurt

Can I Be For A Min

Can I be sad for a minute and cry??

Nope; I told you so.

Can I feel bad for myself for just a little bit??

Nope; it would help no one.

Can I talk for a minute and unburden??

Nope; it becomes impossible to press-down.

Can I crawl under my blanket, with headphones and block it all away??

Nope; this is your reality.

Is it so much to ask that I get a reciprocal??

Yes, the world can’t be fair.

Is it so difficult to get a shoulder for a bit??

Yes, you currently can’t afford it.

Is it bad that I want to be…. so scared I cant even ask it….

Yes, must do you first.

Is it such a horrible thing when I let myself out??
Yes, you currently aren’t worth it.

Won’t it be nice to not have to say I knew it all the time??

Just as nice as it would be to predict the future.

Won’t it be nice to not have to feel this déjà vu only with an actual past always??

Just as nice as it would be to change the past.

Won’t it be nice to not have to fight the nausea constantly, unsure if its at the thought of self or others??

Just as nice as it would be to look in the mirror unforced.

Won’t it be nice to be a little secure, at least even before anything happens??

Just as nice as it would be to be free.

Is it bad to not want this constant racing heart??

Nope, but a lottery wish is easier.

Is it bad to not want this constant longing too??

Nope, but an addict’s freedom is easier to achieve.

Is it bad to not want to be the ‘no’ option all the time??

Nope, but the ugly duckling seems to have an easier luck.

Is it bad to just have the eye on mi for once, doesn't even have to be first??

Nope, but that's too pathetic for my ego to let you be.

Cages

A wounded cat trapped in a four-walled space,
She runs around, fighting the claustrophobia, trying to pretend she is in the wild.
A wounded cat trapped and cornered,
They surround her, taking more of her freedom, draining more of her air.

Her natural instinct is to run,
Run and go nurse her wounds as she reunites with her freedom.
Trapped and cornered, she has no place to go.
Trapped and cornered, she has only one response.

Her natural instinct is to fight,
Lash out and hurt until her corner becomes a space and her space, freedom.
But it hurts her to fight so won't you set her free??
But it deepens her wound to fight so won't you let her be??

They say its selfish of her to want to be free,
She hurts others by wanting to be free.
But it hurts her to stay and not be free,
It hurts her to stay cornered and not run free.

But they won't let her go,
They won't let her be free,
They won't let her breathe,
So she must remain caged, wounded until one side breaks.

Death of a Flower

And the flower was spotted, 
it was watered,
it was nourished. 
It grew tall and handsome. 

Strong and swayed with the wind. 

And the flower blossomed, it was beautiful. 

We all loved it, we all admired it. 

We all wanted to stand next to it. 

Then the flower died.

It was pretty,  full of brightness the other day, and now it is no more.

It was envied, standing tall with pride, and now its is no more.

It was protected, surrounded by love and affection, and now it is no more.


And the flower was born, lived and grew.
And the flower was born, grew and died. 


And the flower was. 

....When he doesn't turn....

She stands by the window,
staring out.
It's windy outside, she notices,
'He would be cold' she thinks and smiles. 


She makes a bet with Mi,
a silly one to be honest.
No was an option, she didn't take it,
'If he cares, he'd look', we agree. 


I watch her lean in towards the window,
she touches it lightly.
We both know the outcome, silly bet. 
'Like watching a train wreck' she says and smiles. 


He comes out and pulls his hoody tighter,
she smiles the 'I-told-you-so' smile.
He walks to the parking lot and searches for his car,
she smiles the 'I-knew-it' smile.


He gets in his car and drives off,
she says a quick safety prayer.
I look at her, pained by the sadness in her eyes.
'Its not a win when you're on the same side' I say.


A silly bet,
A silly bet that was. 

Why Can't I Hate You??

Lets describe....short of words.....first time. Lol

Kill Mi quickly cause this slow shit aint cutting it. You won’t shut up, which is the only problem right now you know. Cause everything else I am used to, everything else I can take. But you just won’t Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

Its not hard cause it was expected. Being observant is a bitch but hey, gives a girl a warning at least. Lol. So it was clear and accepted long before anything happened. Now we both know that, so why do you insist on going on and on about it?? Why won’t you just let Mi endure my hell in peace?? That’s unfair.

Hell is bad enough as it is, being there with you, now that is just the ultimate punishment.

Do I beg?? But that makes you happy doesn't it?? You get worse and there is nothing I can do about it....life is a lot better when I don't beg. 
Fuck it, who we kidding, I won't beg you even if it would cost my life....I guess we both know it, which is why we also both know I am doomed to this hell you have placed mi. 

Like it or not I may, but there is nothing I can do about it....so God help us both then....
someone needs to.... 

....From The Eyes Of The Beheld....

When you adore something, you watch it.
You don't touch it.
You don't touch it for you fear that then it would be contaminated. No longer pure, no longer the beauty that you behold. You would be contaminating it with the essence of yourself. The essence that makes you thus unworthy, thus impure, thus a simple guardian.
You understand this, you accept this.
But then disaster strikes.
Now that which you adore so is in shambles. You watch as the pieces gather together. Holding on to each other to soothe the ache that they each share. The common ache that you all share, though yours is well masked, well hidden.
You watch the bond and once again, it's painfully clear. Your heart is hurt cause you watch that which you adore stand before you, its pieces holding on together to comfort itself. To become stronger.
Suddenly, it becomes even more painfully obvious, your position. You are merely an observer to them. A visitor, charming nonetheless, but still a visitor. One with a mere interest in what that which you adore are, but not one that can feel or understand like them. You are automatically tagged, along with the rest of the outsiders, as one with sympathy, but incapable of empathy.
Tragic loss.
Now you have two kinds of pain to deal with. The pain of watching your beloved hurt in a way you could never have wished upon your own daemons. The pain of being all but ostracized as an outsider by the same beloved: Kept so close but yet so far, stuck between being one and being none. An empath to your degree, it hurts more.
You close your eyes, and the eery all too familiar echo of silence engulfs you. Not the silence of peace, but that which echos with lonesomeness. That which is plagued by the every living fact that awake or in sleep, remains eternal.
It's sad. Playing the beholder to the beholder to the beheld. The beheld knows not what it does to the other. The beholder cannot help the one between. For as sad as it is to say, the beholder is but one.
So to soothe yourself, you dive into the fantasies. The loves, the hopes, the dreams once held, all fulfilled. For a time, the ache is pacified, the loneliness is sated. And like a drug, the effect soon wears out, leaving you aching till the next dose.

If you understand any of this, then congratulations. You have become a beholder; seeing what no other has been able to do before - see from the eyes of the one in between....

....In the Silence....

Engulfed.
In the cone of silence,
She alone hears him.
Calling.
He is back....
Or maybe he never left.

Louder.
His colors bold as ever,
She alone can see them.
Bleeding.
He cuts her....
Or maybe the old wound reopened.

Mesmerized.
Trapped in his cold embrace,
Silent tears fall from her.
Mirrors.
He loves her....
Or maybe she hallucinates.

You.
Another walks in,
Silent tears like hers.
She hates him; She loves him.
For he is she, she is he.

Help.
She wants to scream,
No sound is heard.
In the still silence,
He alone hears her.
You alone understands her.
Neither of help to her.

She hears it,
She feels it,
She understands it.
That thing that fills the empty core,
Yet still leaves it empty.

....She....

Darkness engulfing,
closer, closer.
And no matter how hard she tries,
she can't seem to out run it.

Light receding,
faster, faster.
And no matter how hard she tries,
she can't seem to run to it.

Shakes subduing,
colder, colder.
And no matter how hard she tries,
she can't seem to get off the island.

Warmth retreating,
farther, farther.
And no matter how hard she tries,
she can't seem to get close enough to keep it.

Cycle rotating,
slowly, slowly,
And no matter how different the show seems,
she can't help but end up at the same finish line.

Story unfolding,
magically, magically,
And no matter how wonderful the play looks,
she can't help but end up with the same part, audience, all the time....

Reservoir Chronicles: I wish I could....

Take back all my care and worries,
take back all my frustrations,
take back all my sleepless nights,
take back all anxiety for you....
take it all back because you've made Mi feel so stupid.


Take back all the solutions I tried to think of,
take back all the rescues I did come up with,
take back all the fights I had because of you,
take back all the harshness I endured,
take it all back, because you've made Mi feel so stupid.


Take back ignoring what seems now as the voice of reasoning,
take back stressing since it seems this was all fake to you,
take back the day I said 'ok, I'll listen' because it seems cursed,
take back letting some emotions show rather than leaving the cage sealed,
take it all back, because you've made Mi feel so stupid.


Take back the times I smiled and said I cared,
take back the decades it seemed I spent praying for you,
take back the centuries it seemed I spent listening to you,
take back the millenniums it seemed I spent being angry for you,
take it all back, because you've made Mi feel stupid.


Tell myself this is the last time and know it is true,
tell myself I can walk away from it all and know I can,
tell myself that I really don't know why I feel so and believe it,
tell myself that this is for your good and be happy with that,
tell myself to make it better, because you've made Mi feel stupid.


A lass in the end, she still stands alone.... her greatest fear now a reality.... which road do we turn to now, I hear her unasked questions.... and in the silence, it remains so.... unasked, unanswered.... as I watch the chains fall back in place, and the locks close in once more....

When You are Mad

Why is it always like a roller coaster with you?? One minute you are smiling happily, and the next minute there is a war. She can't possibly make you happy, no matter how hard she tries. Yet you burden her with that seemingly impossible task. Fight as lovers, talk as friends, live as siblings and communicate as strangers. This undefined relationship is quite tasking.
But I guess this means nothing to you, as you don't care.
Selfish beyond comparison. It ached today. Funny how she feels nothing, but when it comes to pain, there seems to be a swinging door with a sign that reads 'Always Welcome'.
Sometimes you make her feel like the hopeless mistress, the other woman, in this illicit affair, where no one but you derives absolute pleasure. Which would be fine if this was so and you are always happy, but you are not and it is not.
You are miserable, and that's plain as day. All sides wish to curse you for forcing her to have to watch you willingly relive this nightmare that you call love, over and over till it seems you would break from it. All sides wish to curse you for putting her through this predicament and web of unwanted emotions. Yet as much as she wants to, she can't help but understand the fact that your sadness hurts her, and that it would be impossible for her to curse you. Even in jest.
Masochist you both are, no?? And I left to watch and wonder in semi disgust at the spectacle she makes, have to still look upon her with a weary eye. What happens to her with this game goes to far and she cannot separate herself from the web?? What happens to her if, by some miracle, you do get your fantasy dream??
You are both as similar as black is to white; as they are colors, and day is to night; as the are reps of time, yet just as different in some areas. You are both of the relationship between the sun and the moon, yet the part each of you plays is that is still but a mystery to Mi. I don't know if you are the sun and she the moon, or if she is the moon and you the sun sometimes. I do know you hurt her, in ways she can't even explain without coming off wrong.
*sigh
You would like to see her go wild?? Funny, the time seems close at hand....
These and much more I do ponder on when you are mad....

....Only a little bit....

I wish to see him everyday.
I wish to speak to him everyday.
I wish to see him smile everyday.
Maybe if I leave him a little he would notice.
Maybe I want him to miss Mi a little.

I wish he would dream of Mi everyday.
I wish he would think of Mi everyday.
I wish he would want MI everyday.
Maybe I want him just as miserable without Mi.
Maybe I want him to miss Mi a little.

I wish he would talk of Mi everyday.
I wish he would pine for Mi everyday.
I wish he would wish for Mi everyday.
Maybe I want him to come to adore Mi.
Maybe I want him to miss Mi a little.

I wish he spoke not of her everyday.
I wish he prayed not for her everyday.
I wish he longed not for her everyday.
Maybe I want him to come to choose Mi.
Maybe I want him to myself only a little.

Resevoir Chronicles: "Thats who I am"

I close my eyes and I see your tears,
I close my eyes and I see your smile,
I close my eyes and I see you saying goodbye,
I close my eyes, and all I see is you.

I am aware of how you feel,
I am aware of how you think,
I am aware of how you are,
I am aware I dont comprehend the logic behind it all.

You always say whats on your mind,
You always say how you feel,
You always do as you please,
You always....its always about you.

You say you are listening,
You say you do understand,
You say you know what I am talking about,
You say a lot of things you don't mean.

Deciding when to come, you came.
Deciding when to leave, you left.
Deciding we be intimate, it did not matter.
Deciding all this, you did alone, we have/had no say.

Deciding the story, you make the play.
Deciding the characters, you act the part.
Deciding the ending, you take the bow.
Deciding the audience....wait, where do we come in??

Can I say....

'That's enough' is your standard response,
Who would have guessed it was never words alone?
I have been running in circles,
Am calling it quits now. Taking a rest.

'Thats my best friend' you say a lot.
Who can believe when it's always a lie.
I am tired of begging, talking, this circular journey.
Am finaly giving you your wish, I'll tell you good bye....

I wish I could say....

"That's who I am"

Reservoir Chronicles: Emotic Alien

Terror,
Unexplainable terror chokes mi,
As the expression on your face changes.
Pain,
Unexplainable pain pierces mi,
As I see the look now in your eyes.
Fear,
Unexplainable fear captivates mi,
As you turn and I think you are to leave.
You pause and ask for a reason to stay,
And tears are the only response I can bring up.

I can't find the words to explain to you how I feel.
Yet the terror for the pain that accompanies your reaction
to my lack of explanation,
Is worse than the terror that chokes mi with your expressions.
How do I tell you its not you I fear, but the idea that is you?
How do I tell you that first impressions for mi begin with fear,
and people always begin on pillars?
how do I tell you that my own self esteem,
or lack of it thereof,
Leads mi to think everyone an angel,
Till I find that which makes them human again?
A lass, how do I tell you that for you, I have found many a human factors,
But still, none strong enough to break this?

My hands are shaking,
I can already feel you leaving.
My voice is shaking,
I can already feel you gone.
How do i stop you?
It seems like every step I take is a mile from you,
But then again, I notice there was already a milestone crater
before us,
And that, I had nothing to do with.

So I watch us fall into an awkward silence,
And I count the seconds with my clock
As it ticks away.
Knowing in a few minutes you would say 'I am leaving',
And I would sigh because there is no way to stop you.
Knowing you would walk out the door, and in a little while,
follow with a message.
Knowing I would now wish this dream, now nightmare, were but only
a dream.
And the clock would continue to tick away....

Unchanged

Tears unshed,
Tears unshedable.
Pain unmeasured,
Pain unmeasurable.
Screams unheard,
Screams unhearable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Words unsaid,
Words unsayable.
Thoughts unshared,
Thoughts unshareable.
Things undone,
Things undoable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Time unwound,
Time unwindable.
Things undone,
Things undoable.
Mistakes not undone,
Mistakes not undoable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Emotions unnoticed,
Emotions unnoticable.
Feelings unshared,
Feelings unsharable.
Death unacomplished,
Death unacomplishable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Things ungotten,
Things ungettable.
Wishes unanswered,
Wishes unanswerable.
Desires unmet
Desires unmeetable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Faults unblamed,
Faults unblamable.
Problems unsolved,
problems unsolvable.
Help unatained,
Help unatainable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.
Yet, still remains, unbeating.

....Her letter to Mi....

Dear you,

I would tell you about my frustrations. About how I feel hopeless and impossibly useless because I cannot do anything for them who matter to mi, but sit and watch as they crumble in different ways before me. 

I would tell you about how I watch them cry in near fascination and despair, because while I want to ease their pain and help them, I still envy them simply because they are free to shed their tears. 

I would tell you about how pathetic my life has become. About how I have given up on personal 
happiness, a term I know no meaning to, and now depend on them, among others, for my happiness. Thus when they are unhappy, I am at a loss for both worlds are in disorder, as the life line saving both has been temporarily (we hope) severed. 

I would tell you about how I wish I could be with them forever. For then my fears of the dark and lonely minutes that accompany it would be eased, as I would no longer be alone. 

I would tell you about how I close my eyes at night with nightmares of the future. Afraid to stay awake for fear of my thoughts, I run to sleep and am slapped back to earth by the nightmares that plaque mi. So I wrestle with the gods of thought and dreams, until dawn comes and I have to resume as usual.

I would tell you about the terrors I feel, when I look into the vast emptiness that is called my future. No plans, no strict ambitions, not direction. Never has it been so empty, and never have I had to wrestle with the enemy called 'Unknown' for this long. There is no 'store away' box big enough to hide this and so I wake to this companion, ever faithfully, everyday. I would tell you about how their smiles and happiness and 'I love you's seem to redeem a part of mi, and I feel like I am....

....I would tell you all these things and more, but there is no you, and neither is there a thing to tell....nothing to tell, no one to tell it to....a lass forgive mi, for I have wasted your time....

She.