By Nina Mort/@
I decimate my life when I get high, but I also get to run away from everything and leave you behind. I soar like a bird but I am still tied up to the ground.
Succinctly, that freedom is an illusion. Aloof I was, until I saw you. I had nothing more than apathy. But I had the aptitude to be at one with you. And you numbly succumb to me as I smolder you. I am a mere being, yet I allure you and tempt your fate. And you become adamant. I adhere to my personal high as much as you stick firmly to your denial purely bred from betrayal.
The tearless rain brings forth hope that blossoms the flowers that I pluck from my garden, except one black rose that is profound and divine. Impaired I am, as I walk through this unadorned earth, yet I urge myself to make a silent wish as I face the star hovering above the sky. Forlorn I am as the wish repeatedly fades and synchronizes with the wind.
For you and I are like two different elements.
If we were together, it would destroy us. Yet they say opposites attract. So the mortals separate and disparage me as I kneel mercilessly at their feet. “Take my life and spare me this misery!” I scream at them. But their expressions dumbfound, as if I speak in tongues. So they dispel their faith and let go of me. For it is simply not their fault.
I stand on the ledge, contemplating, then I hear your voice, faint yet urging me not to take that step, sadly I have this urge to fall from grace into the open arms of darkness. Before me, lies the dark world, a land of dystopia, a place where nothing ever seems to go right. It seems morbid with no evidence of love. Yet behind me lies my past. I dare not peer into the depths of that abyss. For I will fall into a bottomless depth seeking answers to questions I cannot conjure from my sub-conscious.
It’s like I’m stuck in an unrealistic zone, a place that overpowers my ability to set free my emotions. I look at my scars, the ones that tell a story about my past. They are my voice for I dare not speak words not meant to be spoken. Words not meant to be heard. Yet in the dream of my dream, our hearts dance to the same beat, joining in unison, together as one. Synchronizing together like energy to create synergy. I seek refuge in the walls of my heart in a fortress of solitude that I built to hide away from reality. To be lovelorn is more painful than you could ever imagine. It cuts deeper and more painfully than a thousand blades, though it’s like there is a stone in the wound so it never heals.
I find beauty in imperfection, yet you frown upon this very manifestation of art.
To feel would be an awfully big adventure for me. There is something I can’t quite explain, the whole manifestation of pain, betrayal, loss, anger, remorse among other things that have slowly killed me emotionally. It is like I see myself in the past, but I can’t quite fit the real me into that picture. I have the memories, but it’s like they belong to someone else. It’s like I wanted to take a step back and look at my life from a different perspective, but I continued taking a couple of steps back, until it was too late to realize that I had distanced myself from the truth.
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