Tuesday, July 29, 2008
dry drowning
"The mystery of existence is the connection between our faults and our misfortunes." - Madame de Stael
i lied. that was no emancipation. that was me trying to bluff my way through thinking that if my smile could be the source of my joy, my dysphoria will disappear. instead, i am drowning on dry land. i could swim, but water keeps coming in and muscles get wreary after infinite struggles and inner anarchy.
ruined. ruined so bad the doll lay broken on the old mahogany chair feeling nothing but decay eating away at her once pretty porcelain face. the sun and moon visits her every now and then, peeking in through the single dusty window. four walls loom large with darkness worming in like thousands of hungry serpents waiting to devour her. she needs a door. there isn't any.
i am spiraling out of your hands. i don't have brand new red shoes that can fly me away to anywhere but here. i don't have enough of you, your love or companionship. i don't have effort left to spend on fixing things hoping that this time you're being genuine. i have a cup full of no love, and a heart full of no song. it's like the Giant went on a rampage in my sunny backyard leaving a trail of disheveled soil and dead flowers. thunder cracks and Rain Monster waved his tail lawlessly at me. as i explode into bloody smithereens and join the soil i hope, even when hoping seem pointless, i hope that i will grow like those unbeatable weeds into beautiful daisy blooms and thrive in the new garden with something called love, if there's any left.
8 coffee beans
