Bits & Pieces of the Ups and Downs

When two bodies, two souls meet…converse and form a bond, a connection so deep and diverse, they transform. The real beauty is when they intertwine, breathe as one.  The true beauty is when they transform together as two bodies yet one soul and transcend. True sadness is when two bodies become one soul, transform and disconnect. They transcend alone with a gaping hole in their chest, feverishly trying to fill the void of the one that completed their being. So much more than the one who’s hand fit perfectly into another but more so the persons who’s thoughts and dreams escaped your lips instead of their own. The one who’s heart didn’t beat until they found yours. So much more than the one who fit perfectly snug in your arms, wrapped so tight. More than that. More like the one who took you from existing in this life in which you never deemed mundane and made you start living. This is where it becomes morbid. For you both are now simply two people whose souls engaged and faded into one another, for now you have both changed.

Now you must face that once again mundane life alone, alone and transformed. Forever longing for the piece of you that is missing. The piece of you that was uncharted territory. That piece that you never thought existed.  A blessing and a curse, for it you never knew it was there you’d never know what you were missing but then again it would have never opened you up to a world that was so beautiful. To even have such a magical moment for once in your life, even if the moment was fleeting, is rare beauty. To experience that once lifetime is a life worth living. Even if the moment is gone, the memory will forever remain.

 I’m glad I finally saw how truly beautiful life can be and for that I thank you. The fact the now I am not who I once was before you crossed my path and now you leave me to walk alone is saddening. But I will continue to feverishly fill this void, even deeper than before, nothing can stop me. Call me naïve, but whatever fiber of my being is still left I will channel to grasp on to whatever bits and pieces of hope I can find.

Ahhh, if only I could manipulate.

Manipulate my mind,

Into bold colors and grand shapes that they couldn’t be denied.

So misdirected yet fulled with girth and grace,

that it’d demand enough attention to keep me from your face.

Your face that fills the crevasses of my mind,

No matter how engulfed I am in my own life, your words are all I find.

The words that held enough girth, enough worth, that I will never be the same,

because it touched not only my soul but found it’s way to my heart where it remains.

How bad I just want the abstract to fill my brain so vast, that the thought of you I couldn’t bare to entertain.

Not even if i tried but its simply too hard to abstain,

from the one thing in my life I ever really wanted to sustain,

like grains of sand it slipped through my fingers making me slightly insane.

Clouded judgment never seemed so crystal clear,

opening the demons from the hellish nightmare I feared.

Forming questions into a theory that was concluded,

regurgitating feelings that are so polluted,

of selfishness intertwined with self worth,

without you I will cease to truly live on this earth.

So I will remain to float in and out of dreams,

that will never evolve into what I wanted them to be.

Your features are embedded in unfamiliar faces and are recreated and projected into familiar places. Past conversations are recreated and played in silence, the words so loud they are not only maddening but deafening. Your touch lingers in yearning that the contact of any unfamiliar object is repulsive. Everything associated with you reenacts in my mind, heart, body and soul making my thoughts compulsive. Reality no longer suffices, I’d rather take my chances on seeing you with my eyes closed. Feeling the warmth of your breath when all my senses are closed. Shutting down as a mere defense mechanism to save me from falling again. Blocking me from saving myself, yet again.

Beat on my body so it feels as tortured as my soul,

so the scars thrust deeper into this dark black hole.

The words that slipped into my eardrums and set my insides on fire,

different than the burns that marked my heart beating silently to desire.

Never again did I think my mind and heart would be intertwined,

resurfacing a nightmare I thought I left behind.

Only this time coming back stronger than before,

no matter how high I stacked the bricks behind that locked closed door.

This will forever remain unfinished,

because whatever what left of me has simply diminished.

this poem is simply of my love undefined,

this poem is now me…refined

Not an excerpt for you to read,

simply just an expression of things done & seen.

Eavesdropping so lightly on the tip of my toes,

Trying to discover something unknown.

It made me sick, this physical feeling…

When does the emotional battle come in to heal me?

An angel that once had the power to fly,

Fueled by your love she flew so high.

Shut out, broke down, you clipped her wings,

Battling herself she finds comfort and sings,

The same tune..but without you..

it doesn’t sound the same,

For the meaning behind it.. is now simply a name.

Searching not for security but just her definition,

The goal is just merely to have some type of ambition.

To still strive forward for she’s been shut down,

Her smile has sadly diminished into a frown,

I will not let you turn my life upside down,

The only thing that has changed is now your not around…

This white sheet haunts me. Once filled with black feelings stretched across in shapes of letters that held so much weight. So much pain. So much beauty. And now, it’s blank. Like its fucking mocking me, to remind me of what I once was, so colorfully gray. So filled with hollow bursting out at the seams from every angle and onto this now blank sheet. Pondering if in any way shape or form that this has become a reflection of myself today.

I usually don’t think about it anymore yet it doesn’t seem as bland as this white blank sheet.

You know, the one I’ve been telling you is haunting me, mocking me.

Only when liquid poision and smoke fills my lungs, does this sheet speak. Only when the deafening silence has found time to consume me. When everything is still. That’s when I give myself the opportunity to fill this void in which I always thought was you. Now in which has been replaced by my goddamn fucking blank sheet.

I am at a constant war with myself. Even when a piece of me has won the battle, there is still a piece of me that is lost. Lost in this blank white sheet.

Only recently have I realized maybe what provokes me are the endless thoughts I cannot escape to a soundtrack in which I pollute my ears with. It’s the pain in the music that silences me and brings upon these black letters that contrast this blank white sheet.

You know, the one I’ve been telling you is haunting me, mocking me.

Only when the silence comes along do I hear you, do I try to remember, myself. Whatever remains. Only then to I try to pick a part myself that has remained in pieces. In which I feel have finally been glued back together. Yet everytime the silence takes over, I break myself down again like building blocks and try to put each block back together the way it was, and I try to remember where every piece fits, and to what model of myself I’m aspiring to build again. Because when all the pieces lay across this sheet, its built back to a part of me I can never seem to escape. It just happens that way.

This sheet is not yet as blank as it was when I just started a few minutes ago. Yet the black remains black. The pain I still feel. Yet the hollowness has subsided. For now. For I’ve been built back up, plugged in, glued together thank god. Why then do I keep badgering myself, I am my own worst enemy. Not this sheet.

This fucking white blank sheet, you know..the one I’ve been telling you is haunting me, mocking me.

This white blank sheet, when painting it so colorfully gray…is my own worst enemy.

My own worst enemy, in which I created.

Drained.

I stare at that word written on this blog. Left alone…no words follow, it’s the only way for me to emphasize the intensity of such a weak word. I study it’s letters and question how each letter forms into how i feel.

Drained.

What the fuck does it mean? Well i’ll tell you. Behind those 7 letters…behind that emotion…lie a million others.

Drained.

A gradual outflow or loss; consumption or depletion. Something that causes a gradual loss. emptied or exhausted . very tired. drained of electric charge; discharged. To deplete gradually, especially to the point of complete exhaustion. To fatigue or spend emotionally or physically.

Drained.

Of everything and anything that ever exsited within me physically and emotionally.

Drained.

Every word that ever escaped my lips. Lost somewhere in translation…from my mind and out my shapeless mouth. Once full…with ideas and heartfilled emotions i loved to speak of.

Drained.

Because of all the devestation. From trying to stand after the million times they have broke my knees. From the numerous times they kicked me when i was down. From the many times my tears ran dry. From all the times i try to express myself and no one listened genuinely. I have fucking tired myself out. Tired myself out from my type A personality so overbearing and obnoxious i can barely stand myself. Filled with intesity and a passion for everything. Everything overexaggerated bursting out of any openening whether it be my mouth or my ass. Passionate about living and life itself and trying to live the life i have. My passion for anything or anyone about anything and everything has drained me.

Passion.

A powerful emotion, such as love, joy, hatred, or anger. Ardent love. Strong sexual desire; lust. The object of such love or desire. Boundless enthusiasm.the trait of being intensely emotional. something that is desired intensely. an irrational but irresistible motive for a belief or action. A feeling of strong sexual desire.

Passion.

A word that makes up my strongest characteristic in which i thought was my best. Has resulted in making me feel the lowest of lows. If i could take it all back, would i? No for i feel so god damn fucking passionate about the word passion. Im crazy….oh god i must be.

Passion.

Runs through all my veins and weighs on my mind constantly. It is what i live for. It is how i live. It is why I live… my life. It is what makes my fingers run rampant across this keyboard as if every word across this page would be my last. It’s what i look for….but simply cannot find AGAIN. This makes me unhappy.

Unhappy.

Hah…it looks so happy with a huge capital U in front of it. Is it fucking mocking me? It screams U are NOT fucking happy. Yep…U…on the other side of the screen bitch! Is that what its telling me?

Unhappy.

Sad; miserable; wretched. unfortunate; unlucky. unfavorable; inauspicious. infelicitous; unsuitable. Not satisfied; displeased or discontented. Not suitable; inappropriate. Not attended by or bringing good fortune.

Unhappy.

Just cause. Just fucking cause. Can’t really think of a legitamate reason why. Maybe because im lonely. Lonely…a 6 letter word….because its missing something. Its missing me. and if you feel lonely too..its missing you. Because i feel i am no longer here.

As for the 4 letter words??

i “HATE” being DRAINED. But i “LOVE” feeling any emotion at this point, even one so empty and its all because of my PASSION. For anything and everything. I wish i could be so strong as to just say “FUCK” it all! But that wouldn’t solve my problems…i’d still be UNHAPPY.

So where does that leave us? With a bunch o’ fucking words, making up god damn sentences. So instead of reading each fucking word…read between the fucking lines.