I just want to die

Everysingledayispain

horriblepain

iwantagunicantcope

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“Estoy Lista”

Estoy lista para nacer,
Estoy lista para decir adiós
Quiero agradecértelo
Estoy lista para emprender
Un nuevo viaje sin saber a dónde ir
Me voy, me voy de aquí
No necesito más del miel
A quedarme sin tu ser

Estoy lista para nacer,
Estoy lista para decirte adiós
Quiero agradecértelo
Estoy lista para emprender
Un nuevo viaje sin saber a dónde ir.
Me voy, me voy de aquí.
No necesito de miel
A quedarme sin tu ser

Lo siento, quisiera que esto fuera diferente,
Pero necesito dejar que el tiempo a su momento
Me cure toda de ti
Dejar que el tiempo a su momento
Me lleve volando sin fin.

Dejar que el tiempo a su momento
Me cure toda de ti.
Dejar que el tiempo a su momento
Me lleve volando sin fin.
Dejar que el tiempo a su momento
Me cure toda de ti.
Dejar que el tiempo a su momento
Me lleve volando
Me lleve volando, me lleve volando
Sin fin

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I was so fucking strong. So eternal. A stone element inside itself. Hold on to me, hold on and on and on. Don’t let go. Don’t let anything be. Don’t sacrifice – you can, you can, you can. But you can’t compromise. Or hold on too tight. Or let it slip away. Bitter tooth. Night and day. Night and Day. My fever played. But I just stayed. On and on and on. Only myself to see through all that went wrong. On the outside your telling truths that never hide good luck. Your adorable dear. But your never really here. Never on your best behaviour. It’s simple shame. It’s all about who’s to blame. Tell me about. Tell me about . All the wonderful dreams that never will meet me. Dance dance dance dance dance dance dance. Don’t lean on me. Im dying inside. And the outside now looks. Looks like leather. Dead me. Wandered into a mirror. Looked right through and into those dead eyes. No more character. No more me. I let go. I didn’t want to be. Who it was I used to be. If I die I’ll say. I never complained. I let it be. Let it be. Let me be me. Remember me? Remember my careless caress of love inside a childhood dream. What was I going to be? What was it? That made people. Being somewhere that was never real. Was not even real. Before the night draws out. The fever will become cold inside me. A stone element inside me. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. This is your last chance. Remember me. No don’t remember. No, don’t do that. Don’t ever belong to a place that exists only in daydreams. BE strong. Be so fucking strong. Overwhelm me. Behave like tall grass. Sway sway sway. I’ll miss that summer breeze. Hollow me out inside a warm breeze. I didn’t dream of anything. There wasn’t a place. A home. A mother. Or father. Only me. Only that breath. Only that in. That out. My body seemed to no longer want. Or could. Be. A part of me. All that construct. That personality. The wretched vanity that I made, me. More than me. I  thought would fool enough of you and all of me. Forward we go. The past is leant to memory. To regurgitate itself. It’s real but only truth knows. Truth is seamless in its losses. It’s all avoiding. All well placed. Between fear which doesn’t ever exist, and hope that hides intuition. An intuition that will save you. When you speak up for the last time. The last words. When you finally can say. With what little you have left. With what doesn’t say where you’ll go. But only where you really are. A conversation with one sentence. One man. That was once a boy. And all he ever wanted to say. About life. Love. Hope. Dreams. Passion. Place. Hurt. Something indescribable. His lost home. His tracing finger tips. Along the contour of her beautiful cheeks. The ones you kissed. Good night. Good bye. Good luck. I loved you. But love. It’s hard to breath.

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Love Is A Laserquest

Do you still feel younger than you thought you would by now
Or darling have you started feeling old yet?
Don’t worry I’m sure that you’re still breaking hearts
With the efficiency that only youth can harness

And do you still think love is a laserquest
Or do you take it all more seriously?
I’ve tried to ask you this in some daydreams that I’ve had
But you’re always busy being make believe
And do you look into the mirror to remind yourself you’re there
Or has somebody’s goodnight kisses got that covered?
When I’m not being honest I pretend that you were just some lover

Now I can’t think of there without thinking of you
I doubt that comes as a surprise
And I can’t think of anything to dream about
I can’t find anywhere to hide
And when I’m hanging on by the rings around my eyes
And I convince myself I need another
For a minute it gets easier to pretend that you were just some lover

When I’m pipe and slippers and rocking chair
Singing dreadful songs about summer
Will I’ve found a better method of pretending you were just some lover?
Will I’ve found a better method of pretending you were just some lover?

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90 days

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I was abandoned
As a child before I had grown
I was abandoned
Abandonment taught me there is pain
That I am pain

It was my mother
The sun in my universe
It died
Went black

Ever since
I am pain
Hyper sensitive when a woman leaves me
I become unbearable
That pain

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…Of…

Perhaps things have gone awry. Maybe it’s me that got the better of my life. Her memory I thought was real, but the conclusion was just an exhale of dust and chalk. Her good memory is vague, almost absent. Where has the sound of her gone ? Where is the voice?

I remember her heels on linoleum. Calling her cats on arrival. The floor below my bedroom filled with her being home again. The tea warming her cupped hands with legs folded and tucked. The fire place glow and warmth on her face. The eye glasses and needlework, graceful gray bobbed hair. How she aged with ease and not a care.

I knew her buttons and when to push. The laughter and marvel I was in control of. Fanciful purity of a child and mother without any illusion remaining to make one be self conscious of…

I remember her anger and disappointment in my doings and the shame it brought about. Confessions like led. An anchor of weight that could only plummet. Eventually ending with that fixed length of compassion and unconditional love she was never in  lack of.

I remember the instances (two) when I cut her off in mid sentence. With my enveloping hug I held her tight. Both times she was telling me she had cancer. I just hugged her. What else could you do. I always knew when she needed my real physical love. Words are never a lot when we are in abundance of what to say. Adults standing on a stage forgetting their lines when what was matters most is passing them by.

I read her like I knew her for a lifetime. Before I was born and when she was just an only child. Their little girl. The grandfather I never knew anything of. The home she grew up in. Her promise and talent and goodness. She passed it onto her children with her very own reaction of marvel. A look on her face to say hope is all any of us are ever thinking of.

I remember her art and creating. Being by her side. Her little boy by her side in art classes. Both of us sculpting, painting. Drawing. Thinking of the next project and where it would take us. Notebooks full of sketches. The sketch book was magical. Anything could happen and it would always be just fine the way it was. The ease of sketching something. It lacked responsibility and result in a adult world of consequence and being depended on. A paper napkin. Something so hopelessly practical could be turned into something so creative and useless in a way we never cared to think of.

The memory and sight of her in a car. Driving along as I walked by. A wave and our gesture in symbiotic awe. A mother and her boy. A love that only love can employ. Her pride in me being here and of her. Her friends would be smiling at the sight of the two of us. Each of us alike and inside those precious years we were shared. Life granted us time before urgency became a passage – a destiny to pull us together.

Our one last hurrah. One last chance. Before her memory would take a stance in my adult world. So hard and tough. She stands so very still. Unwavering. Untraceable, just a presence I know no other of. It makes imagination an impossibility, to think of what it would have been like. To talk to her adult to adult, today.

We had our time. It was what we were made of. Oh, one can only sigh. One can only cry. How precious she made my life. How precious each step and each memory we are a part of.

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