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Literature Text
~Somnambulist~
Life is measured in time, I longed for your presence, your voice, your body, and your love to shake me out of a nightmare in which my body just wouldn't let me open my eyes.
It was the thought of the punishments inflicted on you that shook me awake at night.
And I woke up every morning with the sounds of past torment and your screaming in my head, creating a haunting ringing in my ears. I realized I couldn't escape the reminders.
I never tried to justify that call, I was a broken heap on the ground, sobbing, trying not to mind the pain of the entire world falling on top of me and asking why but it was more of a plea than a question.
After I had let part of myself die with that lie, I couldn't learn to forgive myself, I let myself slip away until I was so far gone in all the things I wish we could have done.
I tried to pick up the pieces of myself that you left scattered in this home that's just a reminder of the emptiness of existence, in the bed we shared, the places we had traveled, and the world we had not yet seen.
It's sad that I don't know which reality to face anymore. Or what reality you're a part of.
I realized that I loved you for who you were and could not see my life without you. Like a beautiful dream, I close my eyes hoping for continuation.
All my mind can manifest are hastily muffled words of voices I recognize, and jittery dark figures without faces that kept me from going back.
I thought forever was over, until you one day returned on an apologetic knee. I needed no more convincing other than knowing that you needed me as much as I needed you.
I suffered a lot before I could even stand on my own. They told me you were dead and I believed them.
It had to be that I had to let myself believe that you were gone, so that I could live again.
Then you picked me up like you had done so many times before.
Somnambulist © J-Goth/Amanda P./Kanjou Li
Life is measured in time, I longed for your presence, your voice, your body, and your love to shake me out of a nightmare in which my body just wouldn't let me open my eyes.
It was the thought of the punishments inflicted on you that shook me awake at night.
And I woke up every morning with the sounds of past torment and your screaming in my head, creating a haunting ringing in my ears. I realized I couldn't escape the reminders.
I never tried to justify that call, I was a broken heap on the ground, sobbing, trying not to mind the pain of the entire world falling on top of me and asking why but it was more of a plea than a question.
After I had let part of myself die with that lie, I couldn't learn to forgive myself, I let myself slip away until I was so far gone in all the things I wish we could have done.
I tried to pick up the pieces of myself that you left scattered in this home that's just a reminder of the emptiness of existence, in the bed we shared, the places we had traveled, and the world we had not yet seen.
It's sad that I don't know which reality to face anymore. Or what reality you're a part of.
I realized that I loved you for who you were and could not see my life without you. Like a beautiful dream, I close my eyes hoping for continuation.
All my mind can manifest are hastily muffled words of voices I recognize, and jittery dark figures without faces that kept me from going back.
I thought forever was over, until you one day returned on an apologetic knee. I needed no more convincing other than knowing that you needed me as much as I needed you.
I suffered a lot before I could even stand on my own. They told me you were dead and I believed them.
It had to be that I had to let myself believe that you were gone, so that I could live again.
Then you picked me up like you had done so many times before.
Somnambulist © J-Goth/Amanda P./Kanjou Li
Literature
It Came From The Dark
It Came From The Dark:
Amongst the ashes, swirling from the darkness of the pit,
Emerged a hand, dragging a battered body across the rocks.
Blood leaked from the wounds so callously self-inflicted,
And teeth ground with a focused determination and seething anger.
It cared not for the warm rubies - staining the jagged rocks,
It cared not for the sensation of pain...
All that it remembered was a dream, An obsession -
One that drove it ever higher; ignoring all else!
Eventually it emerged from this shadowy hole, this dreary depth,
And in that moment, it learned of the truth.
For this creature, denied sunlight and warmth -
was me...
Literature
Counting All the Voices
Counting All The Voices:
How many voices choose to speak; a debate within my head.
As I lie awake, counting cracks, on the wall above my bed.
I seem to think of random colours and things you've never seen.
But I don't like to hear the ugly voices, some are rather mean!
Though I suppose we are a loving family and thus I must accept
That when it comes to stashing bodies, we are most adept...
Best of luck detective, you have three days to find her (^_^)/
-Chen Yuan Wen, 8th February 2013
Literature
I've Changed (Yeah right)
I've Changed (Yeah right):
You know, I tell myself everday,
That I'm going to change - that I'll be different.
'This isn't the same; I'm not the same,' that's what I tell myself...
As I sit in front of the computer, praying time doesn't move.
Coward, you're weak and you'll always be weak! You bloody disgrace...
I pick up some new magazine, get inspired,
'I want to be like that guy,' is what I think to myself.
I give it a try for two or three days - I quit.
Same old shit again...
Making up excuses? It's what you always do, you gutless wonder...
I try to reach out with my hands,
Seeking something, anything that I can find to help myself ho
Suggested Collections
I think this is a new approach to a wider range of emotions I have been feeling and trying to channel them into a relatable figure such as poetry.
This was designed to tap into lonely hearts to see the importance of real love.
I hope you all like it.
I appreciate comments.
This was designed to tap into lonely hearts to see the importance of real love.
I hope you all like it.
I appreciate comments.
© 2012 - 2024 Script-Interactive
Comments2
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Real love is suffering a life time without it