in the darkness
Anxiety seizes my will to write and I can do no more than stare at this screen. Why? This pointless play we call life ends no matter what part we choose. Be the lead or simply let it all go by, gawking like a tourist at the stars and eccentric players on the stage. It all comes to the same end. Here I am...at 25. I understand less with each passing moment.
Some days I want to set it all on fire just to feel the heat singe my face. The darkness that seethes within, the bits and pieces of memory of all that happened in those days, stays with me like my name, stamped on me forever. I can't escape the movie that plays on the walls inside my mind. Over and over I watch myself walk up that hill towards the convenience store, the eternal school girl in search of escape.
And of all the horror I faced, losing him scorched my heart the deepest. To be left alone to deal with it in those dark empty nights at the asylum, crawling on bloody knees towards a salvation that didn't exist - I can recall those moments after they took me away as if it were still happening. Lock me in the cage and tell me I'm insane.
I can speak of father, but never of the days inside that hell. It's a blackness, a fog and I don't choose to remember. Drugs and delirium by day, gnashing my teeth in anger waiting for morning during the small hours of each night. I want it to stay drowned deep in memory, never to return.
But someone knocks at the door. I must...
Some days I want to set it all on fire just to feel the heat singe my face. The darkness that seethes within, the bits and pieces of memory of all that happened in those days, stays with me like my name, stamped on me forever. I can't escape the movie that plays on the walls inside my mind. Over and over I watch myself walk up that hill towards the convenience store, the eternal school girl in search of escape.
And of all the horror I faced, losing him scorched my heart the deepest. To be left alone to deal with it in those dark empty nights at the asylum, crawling on bloody knees towards a salvation that didn't exist - I can recall those moments after they took me away as if it were still happening. Lock me in the cage and tell me I'm insane.
I can speak of father, but never of the days inside that hell. It's a blackness, a fog and I don't choose to remember. Drugs and delirium by day, gnashing my teeth in anger waiting for morning during the small hours of each night. I want it to stay drowned deep in memory, never to return.
But someone knocks at the door. I must...
