"All my life's buried here, heap earth upon it"
It’s killing me. This guilt. Every time I go out. I speak to someone and I feel guilty for laughing. I talk about you and I feel guilty for crying. I feel like every one is watching me, secretly whispering, and I feel guilty for being such an arrogant prick. I think everyone is judging me, pitying me and I feel guilty for not having more faith in people.
So I’m just going to stop going out. As it will finish me off eventually. This guilt.
I hope I find the answers I’m looking for at the bottom of this pint glass.
Otherwise putting make up on to leave the house tonight was a waste of time…
Your words help guide my wayward step
and shine light in to my darkened heart
Your smile breaks my fall to the kitchen floor
and stems the tears in my haunted eyes
Your touch quietens the incessant voice in my head
and replenishes my embittered soul
You allow me to believe that love might be possible again
One day
Fuck
This
Shit
Paltry, trite sentiment
Faux hurt and pain
Superficial, artificial compassion
Feigned sadness and tears
You've got no fucking idea how this really feels
Grief Vampire
Just piss off back to your crypt
And leave me in peace
I should stop driving late at night.
Especially on country roads.
It’s becoming far too tempting not to press the foot brake.
And I’m not afraid of the darkness…
She remembers she is hungry. She shoves a hand inside the leg of her boot.
Nothing.
She finds herself in Blythswood Square. The shadowy figure approaches her, but she is not afraid. It’s the fourth one tonight.
‘Twenty quid with’ she replies, ‘Twenty five without’.
She leads him down the darkened alley. Still, she is not afraid. He won’t last. They never do.
She reaches for the tissues from her pocket and wipes between her legs. She drops them to the ground as she slides the twenty pound note down into her boot. She puts the fiver inside her bra.
She strides down to Queen Street Station and pays the fifty pence to use the loo. It feels good to wash the stains from her body.
She ambles back up towards Sauchiehall Street to her favourite take away. She eats two slices of pizza with extra jalapenos, hoping to burn the taste of the men from her throat.
She stands outside, smokes a cigarette, and wonders what to do. She trudges back towards Blythswood Square.
Just two more, she thinks. Two more and I can go home.
My heart is smashed into a thousand tiny pieces.
I don’t have the glue to put it back together.
And I lost the instruction manual years ago.
‘I hope you get all you want from life…
…sex, drugs and rock & roll etc’
It’s better that I’m living without you
Rather than you living without me
You’d never cope with this pain
It has wrecked me
But it would have destroyed you
And I would have hated that
I trace those old scars with my finger
I remember the fleeting pain
And the lasting relief
I never told anyone
I hope I'm not about to re-open old wounds
Literally
I think we should stop seeing each other.
I can’t stop thinking that something is going to go wrong and we are going to get found out. I feel so much guilt about what we’ve been doing – it’s not fair on her, you or me. It’s not right that we have to keep our relationship a secret. It means I cannot let you get close to me and you deserve more than that. You need someone who can show off what a brilliant guy you are. Not someone who has to hide you away. Like me.
I want you to know that the times we have shared have been really special to me. I’ve enjoyed every second I’ve spent with you and that’s what makes this so much harder. But it has to be done. Although it kills me to say it: we cannot carry on. I love you with all my heart but putting an end to this now will be the best thing for us both in the long run.
I’ll never forget our time together. I’ll treasure the memories of our clandestine meetings forever.
Please don’t forget me. I know I’ll never forget you.
I’m sorry.
It’s like you’ve been round at your pals house for the evening, and you’re going to call me in a minute to tell me you’re on the bus home…
But you never call…
You said I was the only one who made you laugh.
You said I was the only one who made you cry.
You said I was the only one that made you feel safe.
You said I was the only one you could trust.
You said I was the only one who made you feel special.
You said I was the only one that mattered.
You said I was the only one who taught you patience.
You said I was the only one who taught you to be happy.
You said I was the only one who taught you to love.
Then you left.
And I was the only one who cried.
It's when I think about you the most.
In the wee small hours,
When I can't sleep.
Because of you.
It's your fault.
I say it often and it's true.
You have no right to make me feel the way you do.
Constant simultaneous conflicting emotions.
I know it's just sex between us.
But I feel more.
I know it's not the same for you.
You love another, after all.
I feel more of a connection.
Not just physically but mentally too.
I know when you are going to call or send a message.
It's no surprise: I sense it.
But I am scared.
I don't know the rules to your game.
I don't have the capacity to learn.
Perhaps I never will.
It's okay for you.
You have been here before.
But I know you will get sick of me, eventually.
And I won't know what else to do.
Xxx
Bloodied, bruised, bowed
but not broken.
Who am I kidding?
I'm fucked.
Sticks and stones definitely break bones
And words have always fucking hurt
Stop feeding your kids this bullshit
It only makes things worse
I am falling.
Tumbling through the air,
Spinning over and over,
Hurtling towards the ground.
Some fucker has stolen my parachute.
Don’t think I’m surviving this one, eh?
I may say I am okay.
I may say it to you and I definitely say it to myself.
But it's a lie.
I am really not okay.
At all.
I can forever buy token things,
But I cannot answer my phone if it rings.
I can try to plug the cavernous gap,
But I cannot avoid that same old trap.
I can seek out frames for your daft wee photos,
But I cannot keep all of your old clothes.
I can find different ways to while away the hours,
But I cannot keep watering those dead flowers.
I can pray today will be warm and sunny,
But I cannot walk around and pretend to be funny.
I can look for answers in the cold grey sky,
But I cannot continue to painfully cry.
I can avoid scenes of actual violence,
But I cannot ensure my wilful silence.
I can try with all I have to get myself through,
But I cannot ever stop myself from loving you.
‘Forgive me … I have lost too much’
Today, I choose not to jump.
Tomorrow, who knows.
I am already standing too close to the edge…
What I wouldn’t give to be creative
and be able to express it.
What I wouldn’t give
isn’t worth knowing about.
Sitting on a wall with Judas dressed in cricket whites
I guess we'll never know
19.06.1997
It is unbelievable to think that trip
was three hundred and sixty five days ago.
Just one anonymous face in a sea of many.
My twenty three year old dream realised.
Outstanding.
There was no way to know then where I would be now.
Here, three hundred and sixty five days on, alone.
I would trade every second of that trip,
to have just one more minute,
with you.
xxx
The thing is
It was just so much easier
When I didn't care
Sometimes
I just have nothing left
To give
'Can I get you anything?'
'A reason for living would be nice.'
I know you’re there…
You, my dear, are a cunt.
I'll maybe never have the courage to tell you to your face.
But that doesn't make it any less true.
I will never forget what you have done to me.
I will certainly never forgive you.
Your words - like daggers.
Your tears - like acid.
Your heart - like stone.
They mean nothing to me.
You mean nothing to me.
For you, my dear, are a cunt.
Fact.
Dishwashers rattle
Kettles bubble
Doors bang
Toilets drip
Heaters blast
Floorboards creak
Keys jangle
Voices whisper
Switches flick
Mouths yawn
Arms stretch
Feet shuffle
Computers hum
Mouse wheels tick
Photocopiers whirr
Printers churn
Keyboards click
Phones trill
Mobiles buzz
Pens scratch
Papers rustle
My Heart Breaks
Ramblings Of A Fragile Mind 
You must be logged in to post a comment.