Often times when staring outside
The night calls with a gentle wind
Those long forgotten words
Whispered on the wings of the night
Carry off to the world
Will you hear them?
It's a letter made only for one...
Yet I fear you will not listen
For our hearts are no longer connected
We were once one
You and I and now two
I fear that it shall destroy me
I will not expect an answer
Instead I shall sit in the cold night until the worms eat my flesh
~
Alas, my words make people laugh. Am I just a jester to make people laugh? Does my very rage make people laugh? Do they pity me? Tis but the part of the fool I play in this grand act, would not you agree?
It has been upon these past few days I have reflected much. After being informed that the way I tend to talk or imagine my anger and hatred as...amusing...
Is that right? My anger, my sorrows, when expressed is amusing? Should I collapse and cry myself to sleep would people laugh? I have many times been called upon for advice, for support and to be strong.
Perhaps I was strong at some point, or maybe it was all-fake. I wish I had more strength...mentally. I could have the body of a twig but if I was more mentally strong I still would not be depressed. I could look back at what caused this and think of the person without feeling a pain pulling at my chest. I may be able to smile at the thought of her yet I know that I am crying. I cannot help it.
When that happens there's such rage. At myself, at humanity. I feel like humanity took her away but I know they didn't. Illness did. I hate myself because I couldn't say anything I wanted to and I cannot even go to her grave and tell her. It invokes me anger, my wrath.
Is it wrong to wish for death upon a person? Hasn't everyone wished it upon someone else? Or perhaps one shall wish it upon themselves. Many a time I had spoken out in anger, in pure rage. It is an interesting feeling, yet something I would not soon desire again. Is it that amassing? How I wish for a death towards another? I wish to see people burn in the crimson flames, watch their heads explode, or watch them being torn apart limb from limb. Is that wrong? Or perhaps is it that you don't expect a girl to think that?
I have posed many a question and most of which are to myself or simply hypothetical questions. It's just been bothering me. I cannot talk to those I thought I could. Besides...all my friends, except for maybe one long one, and a few more newly made ones left. So they can bear the mark of a traitor in my book. If people wish to leave with one so deranged then they may. I will not stop them. Pained as I may be. As wrought and worn my soul may be...I can at least talk to some people somewhat seriously. As long as I know that there is something to live for I shall at least slump by. I just don't want to be...
~Shadow of Fire
"Now breaks the weak and frail heart. Watch as she cries her crimson tears until the day she dies."
 elegantdemonofpoop · Tue Jan 09, 2007 @ 02:54am · 1 Comments |
