dark longings, revisited

Sunday, May 31st, 2009

No one knows the dreams I have.
No one hears the voiceless screams I make
in the silence of the night.
No one sees me through the subtle mask
I wear.

Where my tears fall in solitude, and
pain echoes in my heart, I am alone.
I cannot be whole.

It tires me.
This fruitless need to be understood,
when from unseeing eyes I hide.
What is the point?
Sometimes I am a stranger to myself,
yet no one will ever know me
like I do.

Is there a single soul out there who mirrors
the longings in my heart?
Imperfect, but still able to fill the emptiness
of my existence.
Not one has surfaced. Perhaps no one
is destined for me.

Perhaps not until I truly reveal myself.
But that in its entirety is a most fearsome thought.

For when all is bared and barriers
come crashing down, will you
still know me?

I fear the answer. No one knows, no one hears,
no one sees the secrets I keep inside of me.
Will you be there if I truly bare
the darkness in my soul?

October 25, 2006

—–

I wrote this piece some 2 years ago, during a depressing day, at a time when I was still too afraid to show the darker side of me. So I hid behind smiles and a happy face, drowning out the sadness that I felt then.  Until my soul cried out for release. After writing this and posting it up on deviantart, a few people dropped by to comment, total strangers who felt the same pain I did… and I realized then that I wasn’t truly alone… that there were other souls out there just like me. So now I figured, what the hell, I am going to be ME. All the sides, all the mood shifts, all the love and hate and anger and pain and joy and wonder… I shall express them all, here, for all the world to see, whether they judge me or not, I no longer want to care, because I want to be the ME that I am.

I may not be making sense to you, but I’m making a whole lot of sense to me.

I’m trying not to close my doors, so you’re welcome to come in and explore.

I can’t promise to tell you everything or answer all your questions, but I’ll talk if you’ll listen.

I’ll try to stop the cynic in me from protesting too much.

tonight i ask myself…

what happened to me?

i used to never run out of things to say. and damn it, i hate repeating myself but it seems that’s all i do. i can’t be stuck. i can’t be stagnant. i can’t be… losing my words.

what happened to me? where did i go? why is that precious part of me so difficult to hold on to now?

it’s funny that i can only write well when i’m sad, depressed, or pissed off. am i supposed to keep hurting so i can express myself? so much hurt… i wish i hadn’t gone through broken trust and false friends. they say these things only serve to make you stronger, to mold you into a better person… but… they also make you wary, hesitant, afraid.

despite the fact that i seem sociable on the outside, i don’t really share too much of the self i have inside with just anyone, because i have had enough of pretense and lies. it’s difficult to trust, and although sometimes i go by my instincts, how can i really know? i’ve been betrayed by an angelic face, so don’t be surprised if i automatically tiptoe around angels. a person who shows he or she can be an asshole or a bitch is so much better than one who hides behind a mask of sweetness.

i don’t trust pretty innocent faces. who knows what fiendish thoughts lie behind them?

how are you, my little one?

Friday, May 15th, 2009

Hello, my lonely little asylum. How have you been? Did you miss me? Please don’t say you didn’t. Oh, well. Anyway. Are you ready for a slew of new rants? I’ve got several up my sleeve.

The world has started to become oblivious again.

Or is it me who refuses to walk with the world?

I don’t know. Either way, I don’t think I want to be told, again, that I’m closing my doors. I’m tired of trying to figure things out. Just what the hell is required of me? I’ve been saying, time and again, that I want to love and be loved without losing myself. I wonder if that is too much to ask?

Sometimes I am torn between wanting to conform and going off on my own. 

I wish fate didn’t have to be so picky.