Ghosts
It's as if it was just a phantom pain.
The sensation didn't come again.
At first..
It was a few times in a day.
Then it was once a day.
Later days turn to weeks.
And now as the weeks go by,
It's gone.
Every movement I make,
gazes I've met,
and places I pace,
the sensation of anguish has dissipated.
The hollow has been filled.
But could it be by sheer force of will?
I'm afraid.
Maybe it's the voice in the machine,
what if that voice disappears?
I cannot give in,
I cannot relish in this.
This sense of comfort, fleeting.
Walls
“I want out.” No you can’t, little one. Your time is done. You can’t come out anymore. You were too late. The walls tell him.
“But I can turn things right.” Not now, not anytime soon. She’s in the clouds now, watching you over your head. Time will tell. The walls tell him.
“But she’s my everything.” She can no longer be. He’s her everything. And she’s never going to let it go. Until he does, or if he will. The walls tell him.
“I’m in pain.” And that pain shall be ignored. For it is the pain of regret, pain of doubt, pain of certainty. Pain that is reality. The walls tell him.
Muffled screaming of the little one echo beyond the walls. Unheard, unable to see the light, the little one curls in pain. Seeking help. Seeking redemption.
“Let me save her.” No, she won’t let you, the walls tell him.
....But you can be there, and walk beside her. Time will tell.
“And hopefully, time tells me that I’ll get that chance.” The little one mustered his energy into that one thought.
But hope, is such a dangerous and fragile thing. So why then, do we have hope in loss?
Pillars.
Don’t give up.
Give up.
She’s going to come back
She’s in a better place now.
Move forward.
Move on.
She’s going to come back if you prove it to her.
She’s happier with him now, free of your clutches.
Look back.
Look forward.
She’s still there, she still wants you to be there.
She’s already gone, and you know who you want to be with.
Steel pillars.
Clay pillars.
Conviction without question, a four-leafed clover in hand.
Desertion with purpose, new life ahead.
Tell me pillars, what do I do?
Sweet Disposition.
Past mistakes lead up to great regrets. Repressed words labelled fancy and unwillingness to see the light. Selfishness and greed. Both sides cage an animal long suppressed. One of peace, the other of patience. You’d not listen. You chose to be with him. You tell me it’s all my fault that I chose to suffer. It’s my fault to tell you to let go. That now, this is your time. Your happiness and there is no need to amend for my past mistakes. You see me as a monster. Nothing more than a hungry monster out for virgin blood. My pain is my own fault and your undoing is mine as well.
Innocence lost, you forgot what kindness is. You think everything has ulterior motives. That I want you for my own. And of course I do. I do want you for my own. My own selfish reasons to make you happier. But you don’t want that and you find whatever I say to be pointless lies, shadows that don’t exist. You say you want to keep us in your life but you also feel betrayed by our truth. By the fact that we just can’t be happy. You think it’s now you against the world because you cannot accept the fact that what you’ve done is out of haste, out of escape and solace. But it’s fine if you don’t come back. You tore a part of me no one can ever replace. No matter how much company, how much tears shed.
Meanwhile in all this pain, I see her. The mirage in the distance. The oasis in the desert that I can never reach. The words you say add heat to the scorching sun cast on the grainy surface of the sands. I keep reaching out to her. The savior unbeknownst. But she disappears. Now and then she tells me that she is real, but she is just not. She is my sweet disposition, along with you. Two important parts of my life that I cannot have but cannot let go.
Her words tell me that the guilt that I feel is for naught, that I can keep going on no matter the pain. She shields me from the arrows of hurt that you command fire at. She tells me that the walls that you built around everyone else in your new found happiness is not worth a notice. Not worth its’ awe and presence because everything is alright. She sustains me, my personal brand of drugs that I cannot have enough of.
You can be gone, but if she isn’t there, how I wish you could see the light and start from zero. No one is listening anymore. I feel alone.
The vox populi tell me to just abandon all hope, but it is not that easy. They don’t know what I had for you, and you don’t know that too because you say you sacrifice everything for me. And no more. You want your happiness and you’d never come back but it’s fine. She is there, if she is, when she is and I hope to god she is. Soothe me, bathe the sinner in holy water, wash away his transgressions. I beg of you, my fleeting sweet disposition.