I should say, this spot I am standing on right now, is the verge, the limit to everything I can take. Struggled between she and she, I do not even know who I am. No matter who I am, I do not seem to make anything right. So the more I try, the more I cry. Until I couldn't take it, I inflicted the last, the deepest wound made flesh. Scars are histories written on your body but those could never amount to those inflicted upon the heart. And this human heart looks like a fist and is pumping with blood.
With my pool of blood on the floor, won't you even realise how vulnerable I am even if I keep trying to portray that I am strong enough to see through everything? Yet I am just so tired. And all I can do, is to muster this least bit of remaining strength I have got within my very basic skeletal to keep moving on, keep breathing. I can only fight alone, and I am fighting alone.
Words enveloping my world, eradicating all I shouldn't be doing, all I should not be. Do I even sway my ground and mimic myself into someone who is ultimately not myself? Or should I be a mendicant for all sympathy and hope for empathy? And the least bit of understanding that I should truly deserve from all whom claimed love, claimed relation.
My insomnia has got me on doped, and so am I relying on anti depressants. Yet, the dissonance in this cognitive chamber of mine, keeps functioning in such an inharmonious way in which I have no control over, and I lost myself in a black hole. I do know, they say it's up to myself. But what if myself is so damaged till it's so near to extirpation that any trip of spark is enough to fan yet another amber in my Life?
With my pool of blood on the floor, won't you even realise how vulnerable I am even if I keep trying to portray that I am strong enough to see through everything? Yet I am just so tired. And all I can do, is to muster this least bit of remaining strength I have got within my very basic skeletal to keep moving on, keep breathing. I can only fight alone, and I am fighting alone.
Words enveloping my world, eradicating all I shouldn't be doing, all I should not be. Do I even sway my ground and mimic myself into someone who is ultimately not myself? Or should I be a mendicant for all sympathy and hope for empathy? And the least bit of understanding that I should truly deserve from all whom claimed love, claimed relation.
My insomnia has got me on doped, and so am I relying on anti depressants. Yet, the dissonance in this cognitive chamber of mine, keeps functioning in such an inharmonious way in which I have no control over, and I lost myself in a black hole. I do know, they say it's up to myself. But what if myself is so damaged till it's so near to extirpation that any trip of spark is enough to fan yet another amber in my Life?
I comprehend the precariousness of tomorrow, but with this bit of respect and immaculate Love I have remaining for you, I've blinded myself of everything you are doing. I am still making myself believe that every artifice about you is lyrically ethereal. This is Faith. Yet, you forcefully sucked every breath of Faith I have into a perdition so caliginous, so bottomless that I find impossible to feel a dead end with my outstretched arms. You came with a begging plead last night. So who did my pleads of mercy called out to when I was sprawled undone? We don't grace each other, we never did.
Pellucidly, we'll both snap each other, cry bitterly into each's embrace and lay dead on where we rightfully started off from.
-AT
-AT
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