pathetic notes from a bitter soul
i have come to the point in my life where you realize you have nothing, theres nothing you want, but you need something. Desperatly. Something to fill the monumental void left where something beautiful used to exsist. Then, all there is is emptiness. Cold, sad, lonely endless days that run into each other, like the same pathetic memory running continuously on a battered, tourtured soul that only longs for human companionment that touches the depths of its hollowness, flooding it with warmth like the sun presents the thaw. Learning how to feel, to trust, to love without questioning things. Being a whole being, letting go of the fear that keeps me from knowing what my future may hold. You awake one day, realize you want more, but maybe in your solitude, you killed the parts of you that would allow you to have more. In a crowded room, your lonely. Aching for the unconditional, endless love that may make your soul complete, yet setteling for what is in front of you: a half hearted being, who kisses you with cold lips, holds you with lifeless arms, gazes at you with empty eyes, never letting you know why. Its then you know, your alone. Your mangled heart beats like a child wails: hard, sad, relentlessly, wanting to understand.
How do you fix this?
Even if you could find the peices, would there be somewhere for them to go?
Is a heart ever as seamlessly perfect as it was before it was broken?
The moment will come when a harsh reality fills you in on a secret the whole world has kept from you: you did it to yourself. Life on the line, you entrusted your heart to someone who just couldn't keep it beating long enough. Yet, knowing the outcome, you did it again, again, again. Perpetually hoping one of them will fill the gap where your greatest love was torn from your chest, you love until your so tired, weathered and worn, that the one who once loved you no longer recognizes you. There is no light in my eyes, simply the reflection of hte shallow pool that was my heart.
jf
How do you fix this?
Even if you could find the peices, would there be somewhere for them to go?
Is a heart ever as seamlessly perfect as it was before it was broken?
The moment will come when a harsh reality fills you in on a secret the whole world has kept from you: you did it to yourself. Life on the line, you entrusted your heart to someone who just couldn't keep it beating long enough. Yet, knowing the outcome, you did it again, again, again. Perpetually hoping one of them will fill the gap where your greatest love was torn from your chest, you love until your so tired, weathered and worn, that the one who once loved you no longer recognizes you. There is no light in my eyes, simply the reflection of hte shallow pool that was my heart.
jf