Only words will keep my head above water as I drown in my thoughts and feelings. When does the vicious cycle of words turning into wounds turning into spears that stab your heart and your voice then retaliates with words that turn into wounds... when does it end? I keep these feelings of defeat to myself because they need not be spoken in order to be heard. Just look into my eyes and you will see behind the tears that my heart has been robbed of the love that it has given so selflessly, never to have gotten it back in return... For love I would not give my life but for the one I love would my life be turned in for.
I would lay down my life if only my words would be heard because they are what give me my life and had I not have words with which to articulate my heart, so I would not have any life worth living. If my words were as lost as I was, I would be nothing, but it is because I am lost that my words have merit. Should I be found and in my words find myself, then my words and therefore my life will be of worth.
But if nothing comes of it, then I know that I still did my best to convey the messages that pass my mind on a daily basis and the fact that I even transposed my thoughts onto a piece of paper will be worth something. So if something that was lost is now found to never have been lost before, it only simply needed to be discovered, then these words will find purpose and break that cycle of the ones that constantly get caught in the whirlpool of water and broken glass and be arranged in a stained window that the sun will shine through and give just a little bit of clarity among the chaos.

This piece was inspired by The Stars of the Lid album entitled "And Their Refinement of the Decline".

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Tuesday, February 22, 2011 Posted in | , , , , , , | 0 Comments »

You left for too long. My memory of you dimmed with the feeling in my heart. It laid there- dormant for months. I erased your voice from my thoughts and the feeling of your arms around me was replaced by a spring breeze. Your habits became forgotten, your face- a picture tucked away. I tried to find equivocation of the joy I felt from being around you.
Something about you stayed locked in my mind, and was awoken the day that I needed to find you. The scent of your shirt when I wrapped you in my arms as I hid from the world in yours. Words only come slowly now. Like the words of a Gregorian chant, they are few in number and ring on long after the voice has stopped. Fatigue of my body has led to words to come in only small quantities, but there will be strength, something will give. The moon will stay out a little longer to provide for more sleep and for more words to be dreamt onto the paper of my mind.
My mind gropes at the darkness for a fleeting memory of you as the lights go down. My eyes search my subconscious as my body moves me in my sleep. I can almost feel your arm around my waist and your hand in my hair when I come to the realization that you're not there, it was just me tugging on the sheets. The moisture of your kiss was nothing but tears on my cheek. Your chest was just my pillow and your voice was just the rain at my window.

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Thursday, February 3, 2011 Posted in | , , , , , , | 0 Comments »