All the Monsters

September 4, 2011

Cold heart forgotten in shadows.
A frozen soul, a poisoned breath.
A cancer that grows through your veins.
The leaf that falls. The tree that dies.
The wind that howls and an ocean that stings.
A raging dance, a tornado of emotion.
All the souls sing… Mine is quiet.
An orchestra of screeching death.
The rumbling stomach of the Earth.
It’s heart beats slower as the light from the sun dies.
The souls bark at me, like wild dogs.
I am Silent.
No words protrude my lips.
Cold winter silences the others. We can sleep now.
All the monsters are gone.

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Somniloquy

June 12, 2010

“And there will be such intense darkness that one can feel it.”Exodus 10:21

A feeling of trepidation, falling through a spiral of darkness. Deep intense darkness. The deepest darkest black. So much nothingness that I can feel it press upon my skin. I scream and hear nothing… nothing. Absolute nothingness. Not even the ringing of noise damage in my ears. There is only silence.

I wake from my bed. It is dawn. What was that awful dream? A lucid dream of falling. Falling through the darkness… falling through nothing. It is completely silent. The sun slowly rises but it feels like an eternity. Birds begins calling outside my window. I rise and open the blinds. Small droplets of rain dribble down my window. The rays from the sun warm my cold flesh as it shines through the window. Words echo throughout my thoughts.

“Cloaking your soul. Wearing a mask.
Faceless entity, you deceive yourself.
Heartbroken and Scared.
Rediscover what was, buried beneath what is.
Emerging from the dark and into the light.
The shadow grows, light forgotten within.
Former life destroyed in four years of turmoil.
Pain hidden behind your Heroic Mask.
Your cracks are showing; faceless God.”

My hands tremble with fear, as I reach for the desk beside my bed. I pull my hand out with a little container marked ‘Sonata’. My Zaleplon. My eyes droop. I am so tired, a restless night. I had fallen asleep without my drugs, I was in the clothes from the night before. Deep blue jeans, and an oversized leather jacket.
I remove the jacket and swallow some pills. Now I shall rest without the darkness. Without the fear, sleep, and rest easy.
I lay down upon my bed. Head aching. The light fades… a dark shadow creeps through my room and the last thing I see before I sleep is a big… wide… smile…
I try to scream, but I fall into a deep sleep.
The voice rings in my ears as I fall through the dark.

“Sleep now. Feed Mara. Lord of the Shadows, your time draws near. Feel the darkness, feed it. Let it consume your flesh. Let it wash over you like a wave of enlightenment. Feel it’s power coarse through your veins. Feast, and be born a new. Wake from your slumber. And fill time with darkness. Spread and devour the light.”

My heart pounds furiously, but I cannot feel it with the intense darkness pressing upon my chest. I feel as if I am going to explode.
I do not want to die.. Not trapped here within my mind.
The voice speaks once more.

“Death is impossible. Until I am free.”

Pandora’s Box

May 24, 2010

I am incapable of showing human emotion. I cannot find words to express sadness or loss. If a friend were to break down, crying about being molested by their father throughout their childhood the first words breaching my lips would be: “That sucks.”

I am not a poet or a writer. I cannot find words to suit an occasion, to calm or help a person. I am completely uncharismatic. My tongue jumbles words, I find it difficult to put together a coherent sentence.
But this is not my only problem. A normal friend would be shocked and appalled. I would just wish to be elsewhere, not hearing about it.
It’s not that I don’t have a conscience, I know it’s wrong and sick. It’s fucked up.

But I’m not God. I have no fucking idea what you should do.
And I can’t help you.
It’s like I’m not human. Like I’m a robot, comprehending but impartial…. or something.
Maybe I’ve lived to long, seen, heard or learnt enough to give up and not care.

Pandora’s Box was opened and all hope was lost.
That’s just how it is. I’m sorry and I wish things were different.
But the truth is, we’re fucked.

Thoughts and Souls

April 30, 2010

It was like somewhere along the way I had lost track of my own destination, fell out of touch with the person I wanted to be, forgot who I was and became the beast.

Trapped in a desert of sand, drowned in a salty sea, lost in a ravenous jungle, forgotten in the place of our dreams, we lose ourselves in the world of Fairytale.

That world. That world we wished existed when faced with the harsh cruelties of reality, where you try your hardest to live via a moral compass, to be overcome and seduced into the sinister.
Things become grey. Black and White fuse and you find yourself adrift in despair.

Laying upon green pastures as the thick scent of lavender fills the cool breeze. The souls whisper gently and the blowing grass tickles along my cheek. The clouds swiftly chase each other across the mid morning sky. The view is serene.

Self hatred and loathing start. Ruminating over the thought… could there be redemption? Can you escape through the barrier of thorns and dance upon the meadows?

Am I even alive? Am I a shadow? Or even a reflection? A Ghost in the fog…

The rain falls like tears from the sky, washing away my sorrows, the harsh wind blows through my hair and whispers to me that I am free.

Deception never tasted so evil. Thin crisps of trickery and the flavourless betrayal. Entombed in this torture for life without forgiveness.

Sorrowful songs are sung at dawn. Laments to those who wish to escape the fiery depths of hell and stand under Earth’s great sky and count the stars. I smell lavender and rosemary. Sweet and sour smells.

Now we’re all son’s of bitches.