I know that you still read my stuff -
that you still look at my pictures -
and that you still care about me,
or at least how I've been doing without you.
that you still look at my pictures -
and that you still care about me,
or at least how I've been doing without you.
The days have floated by like ghosts looking for homes, everything shades of grey with no colors.
But just yesterday I felt the gentle touch of my father, his care and concern made me realize some kind of self recognition.
I felt I had finally seen a speckle of fairy dust,
the sun had looked cheerier that day as well.
I hadn't felt the urge to hammer down my water pipes,
I even dared to say I was probably beginning to see the ups in all my downs.
Perhaps normal people who've encountered such multiple losses would've screamed
fuck it all, burn me, fucking kill me,
but then I don't want to do that.
I think I know the kind of person I am.
I won't drown myself in pills and drugs or alcohol and cigarette sticks,
I'd probably snowball myself into work and material possessions and lots of socializing and forgetting.
Oh... and subtle self mutilation.
I am actually really really really obsessed with getting multiple tattoos and piercings now.
These past few weeks have been the hardest uphill climb I've set my foot on.
I feel like I've been through 10 Hades and back,
been given the 3rd degree burn and had my heart cruelly and casually ripped out of my chest.
Perhaps you think that I've sprinkled chunks of exaggeration everywhere -
but people feel different levels of pain -
people go through different levels of hell.
What may be hell to me may not be hell to you -
but after all been's said and done it's still a fucking fiery hellhole for me,
and for that the feelings have every right to be validated.
Maybe you were right -
that I didn't love you as much as I thought I loved you.
Or maybe it's just my kind of recovery mechanism, to take the easiest way out -
through denial -
that perhaps I really didn't love you that much after all -
that's why moving on is going to be easy.
I don't know myself, and it's too painful for me to dig deep and feel.
I have been avoiding my emotions, it is becoming a routine now.
Think about everything and you'll find yourself crawling on your knees
bent double and
wailing your eyes out.
Face the truth and admit that you're still hopelessly in love and you'll find yourself wondering why the hell you're still alive if he is only a figment of your imagination and nothing but a distant shadow now?
You might as well take a leather belt and hang yourself on the 17th floor.
Draw jagged lines in your back and watch as your cells spill out all over concrete.
Sometimes you have to bury your pain with avoidance.
It doesn't mean you're weak.
It's being subtle.
You can't face your pain now because you're not armed with enough guns to battle these demons.
If you force yourself against the pain you'll find yourself writhing in distress and perhaps even rot away and die in the process.
Perhaps when a little time has passed you can unlock that little box of pain and roll yourself in it again just so you can present it with the experience it deserves.
But not now.
You are too raw and fragile now, and it's okay.
Time heals all wounds, part of me may still want to curl up and die but the other part of me knows that there's nowhere to go but up now.
I don't believe in much, but I believe in the process.
Healing is a process that time ensures.
I can already see the scab forming.
There's gonna be an ugly scar awhile later but hey - I can see the scab forming over my wounds...
and that simple knowledge is enough as for now.
_______________________________________________________________
[ADV]
But just yesterday I felt the gentle touch of my father, his care and concern made me realize some kind of self recognition.
I felt I had finally seen a speckle of fairy dust,
the sun had looked cheerier that day as well.
I hadn't felt the urge to hammer down my water pipes,
I even dared to say I was probably beginning to see the ups in all my downs.
Perhaps normal people who've encountered such multiple losses would've screamed
fuck it all, burn me, fucking kill me,
but then I don't want to do that.
I think I know the kind of person I am.
I won't drown myself in pills and drugs or alcohol and cigarette sticks,
I'd probably snowball myself into work and material possessions and lots of socializing and forgetting.
Oh... and subtle self mutilation.
I am actually really really really obsessed with getting multiple tattoos and piercings now.
These past few weeks have been the hardest uphill climb I've set my foot on.
I feel like I've been through 10 Hades and back,
been given the 3rd degree burn and had my heart cruelly and casually ripped out of my chest.
Perhaps you think that I've sprinkled chunks of exaggeration everywhere -
but people feel different levels of pain -
people go through different levels of hell.
What may be hell to me may not be hell to you -
but after all been's said and done it's still a fucking fiery hellhole for me,
and for that the feelings have every right to be validated.
Maybe you were right -
that I didn't love you as much as I thought I loved you.
Or maybe it's just my kind of recovery mechanism, to take the easiest way out -
through denial -
that perhaps I really didn't love you that much after all -
that's why moving on is going to be easy.
I don't know myself, and it's too painful for me to dig deep and feel.
I have been avoiding my emotions, it is becoming a routine now.
Think about everything and you'll find yourself crawling on your knees
bent double and
wailing your eyes out.
Face the truth and admit that you're still hopelessly in love and you'll find yourself wondering why the hell you're still alive if he is only a figment of your imagination and nothing but a distant shadow now?
You might as well take a leather belt and hang yourself on the 17th floor.
Draw jagged lines in your back and watch as your cells spill out all over concrete.
Sometimes you have to bury your pain with avoidance.
It doesn't mean you're weak.
It's being subtle.
You can't face your pain now because you're not armed with enough guns to battle these demons.
If you force yourself against the pain you'll find yourself writhing in distress and perhaps even rot away and die in the process.
Perhaps when a little time has passed you can unlock that little box of pain and roll yourself in it again just so you can present it with the experience it deserves.
But not now.
You are too raw and fragile now, and it's okay.
Time heals all wounds, part of me may still want to curl up and die but the other part of me knows that there's nowhere to go but up now.
I don't believe in much, but I believe in the process.
Healing is a process that time ensures.
I can already see the scab forming.
There's gonna be an ugly scar awhile later but hey - I can see the scab forming over my wounds...
and that simple knowledge is enough as for now.
_______________________________________________________________
[ADV]
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