Will I ever stop hearing the Melody of My Love?
Bad thoughts in my mind plague me with a song...
A continual melody
Perfect in sound and mind.
If only I could find the source of
such allure; it possesses the entire body.
I can't escape its aweful magnificence;
A toxic obsession I've bonded myself to.
Vigorous love burning in my heart like fire.
Furious passions guised in a tune.
Would I fight my own breath?
A conscious choice yet a gift bestowed during sleep?
In the mornings, it hovers like a cloud:
airy, soothing overwhelming, suffocating.
Yet in the night it's a voracious ocean:
cool, rejoicing, encircling, commanding.
Beguiling darkness in a light chirp or a low roar,
But ethereal beauty, perfect in sound and mind.
Fairness will always be relative.
Timely trends dictate the society's expression of distaste or praise, rewarding groups and individuals. Truth holds little value in a wider scale because reality- including the distribution of advantages- is manipulated by perspective in one hand and powerful structures in the other. Since some advantages are ingrained into nature, advantages will not inherently be unfair. There is beauty in disparities in the heights of trees despite the fact that that excess growth may coincide with diminished sunlight and nutrients for others.
Through the establishment of societies, however, nature has surely been corrupted. Structures that cause disproportionate advantages to some while harming others (white supremacy, patriarchy, etc.) give insight into the more catastrophic effects of advantages. The lack of an advantage can mean inability to care for oneself or one's offspring or even to have one's life. Even to the beneficiaries of these structures, they continue to unknowingly experience the degradation of their own hearts and limiting their own true capability. These imposed advantages that destroy the will of individuals go beyond unfairness but threaten the stream of consciousness that rope all humans in this world together.
i call the rain
the water is attracted to my #heart.
drawn to the holes that plague it.
an essential commandment
becomes a definite promise.
a beautiful #transformation.
captivated by all my being,
yet i am devoid of action.
this emptiness necessitates.
i destroy and i rebuild,
but every day only brings more ache
more fulfillment of #darkness, more pain
(I am transformed destruction
All I feel is what ruin has become me
....What darkness has inspired me
....what shadows of light have been left for me)
It is all we know now, but Life will end
All that forms who we are, but Creation will fall
(Wishing) their was someone on which I could depend
(Praying) someone will be there to pick up my call
I hate to feel this waste
This emptiness.. this lack
leaves nothing the most bitter taste
hopelessly feeling under attack
Fighting loneliness alone, but there is no use.
No end game, no dream. There`s nothing left to choose.
With no asylum, no will
Life is lost. No laughter, no thrill.
I am transformed #destruction and all I can #feel now is what #ruin has become me ....What #darkness has inspired me ....what shadows of light have been left for me
I never write this way so that anyone can feel bad for me. Pity does nothing for me other than the split second of relief I get when I hear it. After that, reality settles in and I realize that their attempt to console me will do nothing. I will leave the conversation just as empty as when it started. Just as lost. Just as pathetic. Deep in my heart I know there is a hole somewhere, pouring and spilling, leaving a trail for others to see. The products of my moments of energy, in an attempt to please others and find some fulfilment, rarely seem important. I put my all into something just to be crushed or to get mediocre results. I sometimes don’t want to try anymore. Everything feels so heavy on me. Like the weight of a planet on me, barely budging with every struggle and ounce of my might I try to use to move it.
I really hate myself. Going after things to only be disappointed how stupid am I? No amount of work I will do will ever make me more than….. this.. pathetic, miniscule excuse of a student, daughter, friend, whatever. I don’t know why people insist on asking me whats wrong just to feel like they’ve done their job and fulfilled the quota. Don’t ask me whats wrong because if I really spilled my darkest thoughts and someone saw even a glimpse of the things I truly felt, they would all shriek in fear and abandon me, like most of them have already done mentally. I'm so dense putting people in uncomfortable positions and Im so stupid forcing my unwanted fat disgusting trash into veveryone elses lives. Fuck grammar. Fuck order. There is none within me. All my mind is a jumble of dark thoughts wanting to be shared but constantly silenced by the cork of societal decency. Death will be my freedom. Death will be my only hope out of this mental prison. No matter what accomplishments I make, I cant add value. Death is calling for me, lusting for my corpse to join its collection, but like me, it must wait. Im only 17. Some people live to be almost 100 which means I could be dealing withthis shit for another 80 or more years. Please just take me now lord. Im waiting for the time when I will wake up with the sun shining down on me and I will ook back to these thoughts as a triumph of what I have overcome, but what if that day never comes? What if I am stuck in this forma d in this mental state forever? Are my problems that serious, no. But I would like to feel just a little more important than I do now.