She asked for one final kiss. She asked for me to touch her how I used to; make her feel like she belonged. I tethered her to the earth, she said. I gave her a reason to inhale, she said. My hands shook, my mind went blank and I almost  forgot the reason we were standing there with tears in our eyes - almost. I almost leaned in to hold her. I almost destroyed the pain in her eyes. I almost forgot who I was.

She asked me to speak. She asked me to whisper the words I had recited so fluently to her.  Tell me the words to make it better, she said. I frowned, shaking my head. The words caught in my throat, my tongue coming so close to deceiving my mind. I nearly collapsed. My resolve nearly crumbled - Nearly. Those words were empty. Their meaning had been lost a long time ago and I was unable to recall them so easily.

She cried as I pulled away. She pleaded as I turned from her and walked away. She swore I would never forget her. She begged me to never forget her. She asked me to make promises she couldn't help but break.

Glory days are short lived, it seems. Happiness is a fleeting response to nothing and detaches you from the world around you. Tears fall and breakdowns triumph in the pursuit of ignorance. In that moment, we were nothing but strangers in passing; waiting to move on to other appointments. In that moment, one world crashed down and separated into two, split by a final kiss and a need to explore the universe.

Old friends

An old friend visited with me today
He brought me gifts
lured me in with warm promises
of an empty head and
only a temporary
ache of release.

He showed me my soul;
my place in the world
Running his tongue along my veins
seductively

He showed me my fears;
my nightmares and thoughts
cutting them slowly out with his
Confidence.

An old friend visited with me today
and brought with him the old me.
Threw me down with ease and
Carelessness

Reminding me of who really
controls me

he showed me my weaknesses
laying bear my dark demons;
calling to them with some
bloodshed

Then left me abruptly
in a pool of my heartache
praying for mercy to take me.

Mind vomit.

Slick
      Salty
             Drips

 Grinding against tiny hairs

Saturating a grimy film
               of less than neglected -
less than thought about-
                               skin.

Bold
      Watery
                Orbs

Gleaming with an expectation

Burning with desperation-
        with a need to be recognised by her -
                                 Eyes.

Twitching
            Nervous
                          Soft

Sliding in trepidation

against muscles which beg
           to be probed
                       to be brushed by her -
                                    Fingers.

Demons.

My demons tend to get me when I am at my weakest. They crawl out of the woodwork and they hound me until I am ready to give up altogether. It's like they are slowly tearing muscle from bone, tendons snapping under the pressure of their claws and bursting my blood vessels until my brain is incapable of being logical. I can't stand the thoughts that pour through me, so much that I lay paralysed; tears streaming down my face and praying for sleep.

I slowly turn inwards, forgetting everything that is around me until I end up pushing it all away in a pseudo retaliation. I forget that they can't feel the things I feel, they can't hear the things I hear and they can't see the things I see. I forget that they have no idea what is going on in my messed up mind and then I am left where I started myself off; alone.

I am entirely sure that I have destroyed things. I am entirely sure that I have built myself up to a crescendo of devastation that there is nowhere left to go from here and it bothers me to see the sadness that lives behind my eyes right now. I forget this can happen. I am so numb from everything 99% of the time, that I forget that the extremes of my mood still exist, that they are merely waiting to express themselves when I am too weak to fight them off.

I honestly am my own worst enemy.

No.

I always know when I have slipped into a depression when I can't listen into any music without feeling like every single lyric is beating me. It's like I can feel every emotion every person in the whole world has ever felt all at once - without being overly melodramatic.

I've said it before and I will continue saying it - I don't talk. I can't talk. To talk, is to own up to the fact that I am emotional fucking handicapped and am incapable of dealing with basic feelings. To talk is to pretend that I am able to be a grown up person and deal with things in a mature way.

No.

I sit, I stew and I fucking ponder, until I am sick to death of churning the bullshit around that I simply shake my head and move my thoughts somewhere else while the negativity claws and screams and leaves me drained. Work. Home. Work. Home. Churning and churning. Non.fucking.stop.

I can't help but slip into the usual patterns of behaviour. I can't help but feel sorry for myself when I well up at nonsensical and inconsequential songs. I can't help but miss times when I felt whole - like I wasn't a broken child, desperate for simple touches or reassurances.

Self pity doesn't always work, but when you have been denying it, it almost feels like a relief to admit to it. I need to keep myself in check before I fall into old habits and completely fall to pieces.