madness

How to Disappear Completely.

I want to disappear.

Disappear into the mist of a haunting song. Be lost in the melody and forgotten between the bars. I am not there, I am not anywhere. I want to race toward the dark and hide within the sounds of sorrowing goodbyes.

I do this to myself. I do this on my own. I am not there. If you saw me, you wouldn’t see right through me. If you saw me, I wouldn’t need to disappear.

I watch the memories tarnish and turn shades of bronze. I watch people come and go as they please and burn themselves brightly in the sun. But I am not there. I watch myself drop beneath the shallow graves into the ground. I watch as one by one of my scars open up slowly. I am bleeding turning black and blue, but you don’t see me. I’ll be gone before you know it. I’ll be gone before the words reach you.

I am crystal clear in the sunlight days, but now I bleed black and blue. If only I could outstretch my arms to the skies and reach straight to the stars. If only I could pretend that a little light is better than no light at all. Slowly I sink beneath the hollow ground beneath the earth and silently turn to dust.

I am not there.
I am disappearing.
I am leaving.

Gone.

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7/10/2015

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Hurt.

Scars have a way of reminding us of who we used to be. The more I glance upon my skin, the more my scars find a way to haunt me. Telling me stories of what being broken does to harm a person, more than allowing them to heal. My scars were always my battle wounds of the past, just another story to keep to myself. One day this will all disappear, I’ll find new skin to paint over the old. Isn’t that all we really want? Just a clean slate to wash over all our prior mistakes. Some days I am ready to let go of the past, other days I can’t help but think of every single detail.

Who am I, without my broken past of broken promises. Who am I, without all the chaos and sadness that surrounds me. Who am I, in the light that changes the moment the dark hits me. Most days I am just trying to keep this broken corpse together and other days I can’t wait to tear it apart. Self destructing is in my nature, it’s something I can’t escape from. I can fool everyone but I can’t seem to fool myself. Maybe all I need is to dig myself a little deeper in the hurt and cut out the pain. Get rid of all the self destructive desires and find a way to let in the good. Because everything I am feeling is bad and all I could think about is how to hurt myself and make myself bleed.

All I have left are the scars that remind me of every tragic moment in my life. Every last broken hurtful piece of flesh that bleed through every cut. Some days I can still feel it. They are memories that no matter how you suppress them, they never truly go away. Maybe the madness never truly goes away, we all just find ways to pretend we are okay. Are we ever truly okay? Can we ever just forget the past of broken promises and give way to a peaceful future? Perhaps. Or then again there’s no such thing as a peaceful future because we are so self consumed in our past prior mistakes. It doesn’t matter how many times I wrap myself up with new skin and promises of new beginnings, I find myself picking at the scabs of cuts that should have already healed.

Why do I do that to myself? Why am I so focused on the pain and fixated on the amount of hurt I put myself through?

Days I wish I could forgive myself. Forgive every hurtful dark thing I could think about. Maybe then my heart could feel whole again. Maybe then my heart would find a way to love again. But the more I dwell the more I can’t. I can’t forgive myself when the scars are the constant reminders of my mistakes. The scars find a way to open themselves up and bleed out every terrible thing I can think about. Its the scars that keep me thinking of the darkness when I should be searching for the light.

All I want is to hurt and to continue in this pain. Watch my body self destruct and be rid of this vessel and find some peace of mind. Take all my broken pieces and find some way toward the light. This dark is to heavy and the scars are too. Who knows where the future will lead me but I know this present is persistent to this hurt. Scratch, cut, and bleed my way through. Its after all the blood has drained that the hurt will go away. Only then would I find peace.

Only then I will find the light.

7/13/2007

I wish that it would rain.

Dark clouds roll over the clear blue skies. The greys and slates covering every inch of white clouds. Every inch of clear sky becomes vanished in the blanketed covers of the gloomy surroundings. The still of the air transforms into a chill that awakes your bones. You wish for it and you want it. You yearn for this gloominess feeling to stay, comfortable in your layers of never ending clothing. Your armor that shields you from everything and anything. It’s only the darkness that comes in. Everything else is just filler space. The chills, the shadows, all just awaiting the storm.

Waiting patiently.

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I stare at my shoes glued to the pavement. I wrap my coat tighter. Watch my hair dance in sequence with the wind from the corner of my eye. How I wished it would rain, right where I stood. Wishing the rain that fell would flood the grounds that I walk upon and swallow me whole. That all this darkness stood for something, anything besides the illusion of a storm. Watching the leaves fall from the trees and circle in motion beneath my feet. Still I wait. I wait in the cold for any ounce of rain to hit my skin. To fall to the ground and carry me home. Any thing to wake me up from this feeling. This feeling of doubt and sadness that needed a setting to escape to. I listen to the sounds of the rumbling in the clouds and wait for the rain. I watch the clouds anger and light up the dark skies, still I wait.

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I wait patiently.

Sadness has a way of wishing for storms. Wishing for moments to allow the darkness take ahold of the madness you’re feeling inside. I didn’t care. All I wanted was an answer to the skies that blistered with aches. Answers for this hurt feeling of sadness mixed with madness. Still I wait. I pray silently that the rumbling turns into a thunderous rage. That the skies would release their madness in form of tear drops disguised as rain. Then it would matter, then everything would make sense. Watch the rain slick the grounds and cover every inch of the streets. But the skies fail me. They only taunt the feelings and silence the emotions. I watch the skies continue to dark with night and not a drop of rain fall.

Still I wait.

The skies would eventually have to fall. Eventually the weight of the world would hurt the shoulders of the clouds and they’ll have to fall apart. I look up to the skies, close my eyes, and continue to wish for the sky to fall. For the winds to give answers to the cold. For the darkness to answer to this way I am feeling. I won’t run away. With my head in the clouds, I will stay close to the ground and my feet glued to the pavement. I will wait until the I am washed of these feelings and baptized into new sentiments. Wait until the rains fall from the heavens, until they can’t rain no more. Still I see nothing, still I wait.

We are familiar with the smells before rain that guide us into our sadness. Knowing that eventually waiting for never ending droughts, will get us no where but feeling silly for the waiting game. Still I wait. Wait for change, wait for growth, and wait for the rains to fall and hit me whole.

Any minute now, just a little while longer.

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3/13/2014

Skin and bones.

If I was who you wanted me to be, would you still love me?
If I had been exactly who you wanted me to be, would you still want me?
If I had listened to every word you said, would you still hear me?

I wonder about the silliest of things. Like how a person could disappear and leave their ghost behind. Still haunting when their corpse has long been buried. I am suppose to move on and forget, but I can’t help but reflect and remember. If I had been a fraction of those expectations, would you still give me a chance?

I changed my ways to accommodate your wishes. I changed every aspect of myself to make yourself better and still you wanted more. I wasn’t the change you expected. I wasn’t who you expected me to be. Yet, I can’t help but wonder if I had been exactly what you wanted me to be, would you still want me. I would have bled myself dry, if it meant that this would work. I would have stopped the madness hurting inside, if it meant you would stay just one more day.

How you flocked to the girls with their skin stretched over their bones. How you loved the illusion of this skeleton of a body and fixated on the ideas of that perfection. The countless nights, I counted meals and accounted for every last calorie. Would that be enough? How the extra calories could be slept away or purged until the obsession starts all over again. The illusion of being perfect and the risk of losing it all. I couldn’t control the monster of madness inside. I couldn’t control the obsession of hurting, all for being exactly what you wanted me to be. I begged, I pleaded, I cried, and still you stood so tall. Ordering your demands and I couldn’t help but want to do everything, just to make you stay. It was never enough. Your words flew out like venomous rage, still here to haunt me. I was never your perception of perfection. No matter what I did, I was never enough. You liked me, but you loved her. You cut me down but raved about everyone else’s perfections. I purged every last bit of my insides and you stood tall counting on my imperfections. It wasn’t enough that scratching the surface never deepen the cut. How foolish to believe that if I had been every word of what you wanted, I would have you.

Skin heals, cuts fade and eventually all the bricks you threw at me, will rebuild the little foundation of life I see. You disappeared and buried every last bit of who we used to be. You didn’t count on your ghost being left behind to haunt the remains of a memory. I loved you and all you ever did was bring me down. Took my sadness and devoured it into madness. Maybe we are all just a little mad, but some worse off than others.

You liked me but you loved her. How I always thought otherwise. If I were skin and bones would you love me in the end? If I purged ever last bit of you out of me, would I finally let go of you? If you hadn’t met her, would you still want the same from me?

Would you?

7/12/2007

Run away as fast as you can.

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Music has always been a huge factor in my life. For as long as I can remember. It’s the melody in the arrangements. The words that make up the lyrics in the song. Sometimes it’s the haunting storytelling that finds a way to tug at your heart strings. There’s always that one song. That one song that hits you in the gut and straight into your soul. The more you think you can hide from it, the more it keeps reappearing. That’s how I always felt about “Runaway”. It was always that song I tried to escape from. Its the lyrics that flow freely and become so vulnerable. The tiny glimpse of a soul that infiltrates your reality.

It starts within the first few seconds. The haunting echoing sounds of the keys. A backdrop of emptiness, that pierces through your chest. The more they repeat themselves the more it cuts you inside. One after the after. The same keys, then the drums crash and hit. It becomes this empty chaos. Just when the words start to come into play, you take it all back one last time.

And, I always find somethin’ wrong

The best way to explain situations is to formulate the words and say them yourself. I am not the best person. Some days I feel that I’m the villain in the film of life. I can’t shake that feeling. That desire to find the bad in everything. Just when I think I have it figured out, I can’t help but trash the whole system. I have that tendency to seek comfort in the demons of my life. Reaping the benefits of sorrow and blaming everyone in the process. I can’t help myself. Right when you think everything is okay, you find a way to bring everything down. I am so used to pretending I’m okay and in reality I’m not. Instead of letting wounds heal, I just pour more salt on the healing process. Always finding something wrong.

I’m so gifted at findin’ what I don’t like the most
When your spirit has been brought down so many times, how do you recover from that? How do you get the courage to seek good in bad situations? You build these walls that don’t allow anything to get through. You’re afraid of the emotion, you’re afraid of the consequences, you’re afraid of someone breaking down the walls. I let bad people into my life that have broken my spirit countless times. When you allow people to break you, you begin to break down the good people in your life. The people undeserving of your broken spirit. I can’t help but think of the monster I’ve become toward people. Saying things out of fear of my own demons. The same things that have haunted my life that come out through pure emotional withdraw. I think of all the people that put up with my bullshit and I continue to think of all the times I’ve let them down. Spilling out apologizes comes naturally to me, my only exception is that I actually mean it. Every time I say I will be better, I believe it. Every time I say “I’m sorry”, I believe it. I just don’t know anymore.
Words have a way of haunting you. Sometimes all you want to do is run away from them. Run away from all your problems, from all your emotional bullshit, everything. The revolving door of broken people will always be there. As much as I want to hide from my past, I can’t.  All I can ask is to take my apology and accept my forgiveness. I mean it this time. I mean it more than the first time. I mean it more than the last time. I just couldn’t help myself.
I’m sorry.
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