To me, to you, to no one. Wrote this today in the early hours before work, I left it incomplete.
My scratched insipid eyes are the sinners in the cathedral pews
where saints utter prayers amidst drab, blackened hues
These sinners eyes exalt you as the idol on that pulpit
this witch-tongue protrudes from leech-lips, lapping up your hallowed spit
I live lies, I pretend to be strong but I'm a damned coward. Masks, walls, under the pretence of strength. And I know that's not even good enough, it's transparent. My fear is a mannequin put on display for the world to see behind the glass-wall of my pathetic efforts. It makes me paranoid. Always paranoia. Sometimes it's like I can't breathe. Fear incinerates anything precious or worthy of joy in my life. Any single morsel of hope and joy I hold in my hands soon is dust. Then I'm back where I started. Because of fear. All of it, screwed up by me. It trails behind, inside of me, before me, around me. I'm sick of trying. Feed me prozac. I can't find a way out. I can't find a way to describe it. It's buried deep inside of me, it's there right now, I don't know how to deal with it for the rest of my life. Or how any one can deal with me. That thing inside...all thoughts and actions trail from it, I've watched myself. How can any one deal with me without judgement, stating what I already know, demonisation, the leper, she's not healthy enough for me, therefore let her rot by herself and miraculously become sane...she needs my holy purging words and let her be... or being put off or repelled or repulsed. Every single friendship since I graduated, every decent person..I destroyed it. Fear. What will be my life like.. I'll keep watching it, now I know it's there. Jesus have mercy on my soul.
Read something today: we make them cry who care for us. We cry for those who never care for us. And we care for those who will never cry for us.