ride the void

she is lost, afraid, alone.

i feel the needles pinching flesh, pushing in, reaching for the depth inside my soul. i cannot be, but here i find myself. i am not me, the person i so need to cling to. i cannot hold on to the thoughts invading my mind, obsessing on the image lost, regressing to the place i turned away from. i’ve pushed onward, forward, going steadily towards something, anything, a meaning that will make it all mean something great. touch me, my heart, touch me, my flesh, hold on to my shaking limbs and know a peace. i need the rush of blood through my veins, i need the urge, self-sustained, to become – to be real. you were never real. you were never attainable. you were never anything that could need the aching within my heart. i needed it. the fragile heartbeat, child-like, yearning for a new understanding, becoming a monster who loved a monster. we did bad things you and i, bad things which felt so right as the racing in my heart. i was meant for it. i belonged to it. i became it, all for you, as you glided away into the arms of another who saw only a pretty face. i saw the angel within, shook hands with the demon intruding and never refused to not believe in that angel of which i saw drowning behind your eyes. i suffocate inside the past as i still dance with our skeletons, a quick waltz to ease the mind, to steady the heart. fear for me as i do for you, fear for the loneliness that seems to ensue, fear for the denial of a normal life held inside the realm of acceptable society, fear for the moment when you realize the truth as it all slips away to never be seen or heard of again. believe me, the words i gave to you, those we shared on pages in ink, the ones that were real, captured forever to the paper, forever meaning what they say because that was the most real thing we ever had to hold on to.

i hear the music, the beating, the pulsing, but i cannot hear the words..not anymore. i can smell you, the intoxicating scent as it seizes my limbs, the enchanting way it lingered upon my skin but i knew it was you. i wanted to feel. alive. i wanted to breathe. i wanted to hold on to those grains as they passed between crooked fingers. i’ll not write to you, for you, not anymore. though the line was crossed long ago. lose myself, feel the ripping as it tears through flesh, wish for a dream never come true.

the dreams have faded. no more do they invade my nights with such warmth, and i still remember. you told me it would go away, fade into nothing one day, you told me it was the end, sorry goodbyes hurt but don’t kill yourself or i might feel guilty. not in those words but more or less. you told me i would find my someone and be in love, as i saw the look in your eyes, as i felt you touch my skin softly, and play with my hair, and hold me just a moment too long. how deceiving.

my heart breaks sometimes, over and over again. it spills red fluids surrounding my feet, drowning the world as it races all around me, devours me. i’ve not read the letters in so long, i fear to open back to those pages. the truth hurts us both. everytime all the same. we are doomed, you and i. doomed. the evil inside us, it isn’t so evil…but real, withstanding, longing for an end. when will it come?

one more pill and one more drink, can’t you allow her her peace, can’t you let her go. one more just to ease the pain, but it’s here. always. hold on to the covers and ignore this world. she will never make it, never be anything but the loser she has chosen to be. could you not just pretend, make believe your heart still loved her, needed her, wants her. could you let go completely, let her demons consume her, let the pills push within her flesh driven by the pumping of her heart as it screams for you, freedom. can’t she have her freedom, be alive,  she sees the blank canvas, dreams of her landscape, serene and colorful, hills and trees, sunsets and campfires. she knows the difference between dreams and reality. she can fly in her dreams, do you know the difference, when to catch her when she falls?

i am loneliness without you. i am emptiness. afraid. reaching for the blade and watching it gleam, watching my reflection stare back at me.  knives are pretty. i am scared of that which i cannot be. i cannot remember the day i held onto you, touched your essence and felt the power surge through my being. i cannot remember what it is that i am – who am i? why can’t i bleed to you? can you even pretend? can you let go of my heart and not leave me in despair?