"So here we are again, dear 'brothers'! Who has been slighted this time?!" Tigrea snaps at his audience. The dripping sarcasm does not go unnoticed and is marked by Laykah.

"We're here, dear 'brother'... to regroup, heal ourselves from the last attack from one that could have actually brought us togeth--"

"Slain's excursions into prostitution do not concern me!"

Slain watches intently, being the third but not last of the audience, he raised his brow with interest, utterly silent. Laykah glances over to him and nods sighing and sits back in his chair in an almost defeated fashion, raising his hands. 

"It's indeed true, Slain. It fascinates us that Tigrea just attempted to either lie to us, or to himself, within seconds of our meeting. As if we do not actually hold factual knowledge that the three of us, have a heavy stake in each of our affairs." He smirked and looked at Tigrea, who's eyes flashed with rage, huffed and sneered at the comment, he turned his face and spit for the last act of defiance as he too, sat back in his chair, ceding Laykah's point. 

"To whatever gods! Damnit. Are we to kill her?" Being overtly pragmatic. Slain winced, irritated at the notion. 

"Come, come, now," Laykah tries to soften the blow. " did we ever even come close to considering such brutality with the previous two, Tigrea?"

Tigrea hisses and spits again. "It was worth a try, to find a quick solution to this, than the oncoming storm of internalized bullshit we'll have to weather." Slain glares, stoic. His raised brow, the only tell tale of emotion was gone. Laykah sighs. 

"You really must calm yourself, brother. "

"Yes... brother. You must." Slain says softly.

"Ah but of course, the humorous one chimes in with but a," Tigrea feigns a gasp. " fucking joke. Tell me, brothers, how shall I channel recent events, mixed in with the anger you both know that I feel, in triplicate due to our current status!? I feel for ALL of us, simultaneously! A curse that's yet to be rectified, yet still the fucking source of amusement to us! So... Slain oh wise one... how shall I calm down from your recent entanglement with a razored Rose bush?! Or how about your input, Laykah? or Shall I ask your blue fuzzball for cryptic advice in place of your dismissive sarcasm!?" In the surrounding darkness, a creature slinked towards the table. The three watched it as a large, dark blue furred cat calmly jumped up to the round table they sat around and sat, gingerly at Laykah's left hand. It gazes at Tigrea and tilts its head, silently and keeps staring, without moving. 

The cat continues to stare, the tension in the room increasing with each moment. It flicks its tail once and lays it gently back down on the table. It's whiskers twitch once and then the silence is broken by an unfamiliar voice. The cat, addresses Tigrea, in a hostile yet calm tone. "Did you say something?!"

"I Will fucking kill y--" Tigrea slams his nails into the table.

"Enough!" Slain lets his anger spill a bit. "As much as it would amuse me to watch you chase the pretty kitty around, Lancea, and as much as this delightful banter soothes superficially, I really am in no mood; As you you both painfully already know, dear brothers. We need to quell this emotional turmoil before one of us does something the rest will have to suffer for and endure. So if you could attempt to contribute in such a manner that progress is made, I'd greatly appreciate it." Slain places his hands gently on the table as he finishes. 

"Do not call me that again, Slain."Tigrea hisses.

"As you wish." Slain nods in agreement and sighs. 

"Well wasn't that fun? Shall I go fetch the wine in celebration of your agre--"

"Laink!" All three men yell into the cat's mind, whilst seemingly unreactive in their seats. 

"Sighs, very well... I don't need my psychic powers to know how to read the the room. Scratch you later, pointy," The cat looks at Tigrea as he speaks.  " I'm sure I'll still be hungry later. " Feeling his point was made he paws over to the edge of the table, and prepares to stretch before leaping down. Tigrea, watching him with no good will, suddenly his angry countenance melts away, as if he's discovered a solution to a puzzle. He smiles. Slain just watches this, unfazed. Laykah palms his face as Tigrea brings together his pointer finger and thumbnails together with his right hand and flicks a spark directly at the feline. The cat hisses loudly as his tail and hind paws spark and smoke briefly. In a scramble the cat runs into the darkness and the small embers on his fur are put out in the distance due to his speed. Slain chuckles at the sight of the embers and awaits his brothers to compose themselves. 

"Huh... I thought he was psychic." Tigrea shrugs. 

"I did tell him to run, should have listened, and Tigrea, if he shits in your cape, I'll hear none of it. Like children, I swear. "

"I'll skin him."

"Sure you will." Laykah looks over to Slain who grew impatient. "Brother, what ever shall we do with you? We've picked our romantic," he waves at himself and Tigrea, " demises long before you, what makes you think we'd be any good in helping you now with your queen? Evidently... you must leave her to the madness that drives her. What other choice have you got?"

"You think it so simple?" Slain straightens in his seat and prepares to disagree but Tigrea anticipates him.

"Yes! it IS that simple, brother. How many times has she forsaken us---You! Even You have lost count. It's broken us --"

"Tigrea" Laykah warns him of his tone and phrasing...

"To whatever gods! You! You. She's broken you so often that only her returning with accusations of your abuse breaks the monotony of her repetitive abandonment! Come to think of it... why desire to be with a person that so intently believes the absolute worst of your existence?! And if you are so horrid to her, why does she return to you? She's mad. Being driven by mad beings. Mislead. Cede her madness. Let it be. Let her go and we'll find someone else----"

"FIND SOMEONE ELSE!? " Slain erupts landing on his feet. " It's that very arrogance that she quotes in our--MY actions! Neither She, nor anyone we've loved are so interchangeable, Tigrea."

"Then fuck finding someone else. That's NOT the point of this and we all know it. The point is to save you. You're destroying yourself . You've become murderous, Slain. You've killed. More so than even I ever expected you to. That darkness you've been pulled into... it chills even ME. You even tried to kill US, brother." Tigrea points at him from his folded hands.  "You. Attempted. To. Murder. Us. " Laykah raises his hand to get Tigreas attention. "A moment brother, if you please." Tigrea nods and crosses his arms, listening. "Slain, whatever the potential of a cure existed within her, is long gone. You know this. She threw it away, knowingly and willingly. Without hesitation. I thought Tigrea was the one that struggled with hints." He smirks glancing at his brother who's now gesturing rudely at him for his remark. "Why do you still chase this?" 

"Yes, please tell us why you chase that brutal pain? It is ALL she offers you, in some form of recompense for having misjudged you in the first place, her olive branch is to tell you that she didn't know any better and will now and forever be unsure if you were ever genuine toward her. Despite you having never given her reason to suspect otherwise. This incessant bullshit has torn you further apart than the " waves around the table exasperated " fucking blatantly obvious. "

Slain sits back down, almost disappearing into his chair. "Tigrea, Rivulecy did not create us, nor or is she responsible for curing us. It simply felt the closest thing to a cure, truly,  deeply the closest we've ever felt to a cure. The most important part was... w- I was not looking for that. It just came to be."

Laykah takes his chance, "NO... for certain that she did not indeed create us. Hilariously enough for us, Slain. Despite only ever having one male and two female heirs, your parents are wholly the beginning of the curse that created all three of us. "

"This we've known and it helps us abysmally little at the moment. Terribly sorry to push the issue, but why do you desire to repeatedly seek out such turmoil? " Tigrea scratches at the top of the table with his nails, impatiently. 

"I... I don't."

Laykah's jaw drops slightly... his fang leaves a faint glint. Tigrea sits up, attentively, silent and serious. "I do not seek it. I do not want it. The pain, ugh... the pain has all but killed that part of me. Not my choice, Tigrea, I assure you. Not in the killings that you mentioned. Though yes... I did kill and try to kill... a great many things. I tried to kill you both, though that isn't the first time."

"That's hardly the point, Slain" Laykah responds purposely letting his irritability out. 

"I know, I know. I just wanted to make sure you both remember how both of your 'excursions into prostitution,' was it? Also led to my decreased concern for either of your well being, brothers. " Laykah glares at Tigrea and his brother shrugs.

"I'm not apologizing." Slain grins and tries to continue. 

"It's fine, and aptly put, I believe. Whoring yourself out, physically, mentally or emotionally  just for the mere promise of affection and care or time from someone who isn't ready to do so, but accepts your offers and stiffs you for the bill... well... You can't ignore that suffocating feeling of being used, eh?"

"That was a delicious description.... " Tigrea notes with a bad taste in his mouth. 

"And all of it your fault, now shut up." Laykah barks. Slain watches and counts down in his head with a smirk.

"Haha. Yeah. Slain's taste in psychotic, sadistic women is clearly my doing."

"You really want to go there, sir 'Bleeding tastes better'? Laykah quips as Tigrea growls lowly to himself.

"I don't know, Laykah. Tell me, does blood taste better than that Electra complex?" Tigrea leans forward. Laykah punches the table lifting it a bit off the opposite end. Slain cracks his knuckles and sighs. 

"And there it is. We've taken our swipes at one another. Shall we press on?" Slain stands. "I don't want it. I certainly don't need it. It pains me to say... that this has-- No. It doesn't pain me to say it.  What pains me... is  the overwhelming yearning to understand why. Why do such things to person? Why tear them apart every time they seem like their scabs are beginning to dry? Why make simple promises to reassure them of change...only to repeat the past once over? Why sabotage what you had, and claim it was destined to fail? Why hurt a person over and over? Why not leave them be like you claim to wish to? Why take the obvious freedom you have to abandon someone, only to return and hurt them again?"

"Why indeed, Slain." Laykah offers some solace. "You very well know that's not sanity. No kind person, no decent  person. No human being who dares to claim "love" as their catalyst would ever consciously do such things."

"I've made mistakes--"

"So has God and nature! What is your point? That you deserve this? No wonder you continue to let her methodically rake your humanity across the coals. "

"No, I don't deserve this. That is why we're here, Laykah."

"Then listen to us... your noble search for understanding aside, it is a fools game. You play with madness brother. She's broken. She's broken and she's actually led you to believe that YOU are the one that broke her... while praising you for the help and support and supposed trivialities that you "taught her'. A compliment in one hand, concealing the sharpened misericords in the other. All the while not actually putting you out of your misery. Tigrea and myself have stood by watching this... and stood by as you almost killed us. Cede her madness. Leave her to her madness and grow stronger. To whatever gods! This curse has an end, even without her. Being close to a solution, does not mean the solution has been found. Rivulecy's mind is gone, and she's trying to take you with her. By whatever means. She doesn't care what she destroys along the way, as long as her constructed outward personality is not tarnished. Whatever does not fit her narrative is severed and forgotten. "

"And she's forgotten A LOT, dear brother." Tigrea acquiesces firmly." Leave her to her madness. Steel yourself before you kill us all. And don't forget, there's someone---"

"It would serve you well, Brother," Slain speaks loudly still standing. " to remember that yes... our solely given promise to remain here... of this world, lies upon that poor creature that we have failed over and over again to perform our duty while in her service. And our Service... will never be fulfilled. Not in any lifetime. She is the sole driving force behind all that the three of us ever do. We were not tricked. We were not deceived or sold or pressured into this service. We happily and willingly chose it. Forever it shall be so...But brother... let that be the once and final time you reference Featherhair, as a secondary, or tertiary variable. She is OURS. We belong to her. She is our reason. She is our air. Everything we do... we do thinking of her. "

"Well, not everyth--"

"To whatever gods, Tigrea! Not fucking now!"Laykah growls.

"Fine, I won't raise that topic again." Tigrea rises and walks around his chair, placing his hand on either side and holding it, almost expecting to use it as a shield. 

Silence take over the hall, the three figures lie in wait to see what the others has to offer. Slain begins to hear whispers. He searches the room, for a tell, a giveaway that one of his brothers is attempting another ill timed jest. Nothing. They scan stone like at one another. Slain closing his eyes tries to focus on the whispers. They grow louder. Now he hears the words softly gliding across his mind. Leave her to her madness. Leave her to her madness. Cede her madness. Broken. Broken. She's mad. The demons that broke her will take you with them. Cede her madness. The whirlwind picks up in his head... his brothers are gone. He's alone. "So---so , it isn't-- isn't y-you...." Slain trips on his own words, mirroring his movements. The whirlwind now a hurricane in his mind blows to and thro. The words getting louder, harsher. Echoes of pleading tearing at his chest and mind. 

Leave her to her---Cede--- Broken

Leave her madness. Your madness.

Leave it! Abandon your madness!

Your madness will break you!

She needs you! "I need you!"

I'll kill you! "I'll kill of you!"

"I'll kill myself." Kill this madness!

"I hate everything!"

I hate her! I can't stand it! 

"She threw me away!" 

They all threw me away!

"That's all they ever do." They leave.

They leave. "They leave." They leave. 

They leave. "They leave." They leave. 

They abandon you... they forsake us. 

They leave. Leave. Leave. Leave.

Leave her... Leaver her... Madness. 

Leave her madness. Leaver her to--

Leave her to her madness! 

The madness is yours!

"The madness is hers!"

Slain kneels holding his ears in hopes of stopping the horrid onslaught between them. His brothers now standing at his side, watch him. Uneasy, hoping for the best... Laykah's nails growing alongside his anxiety... Tigrea, gripping the hilt of his sword with disdain... both preparing for the worst. It wouldn't be the first time, but to whatever gods do they wish it was the last. They gaze down at their agonizing Kin, not sure what to do. What could be done? This is why they are here. This. What ever comes of this, they'll deal with as before. Like always. This would not be their undoing, and what a pathetic ending if it was. After all, Pride does have it's place. As does death.

"The madness is hers!" Slain yells, and gasps for air as he rises up to his feet with a stumble. His eyes held shut, his hands pressing into his skull. He sighs... getting his feel for where he is once again... He notes the breeze in the hall where he summoned his brothers to meet. He feels the torches around the room have gone out in his momentary departure. He feels his bother's hands firmly on his shoulders, from steadying him as he rose. What he most takes note of is the merciful silence that now graces his body. The voices are gone, a feint echo. He lowers his hands slowly, his eyes still shut. Exhausted let himself fall forward, resting his palms on the table edge, catching himself. He opens his eyes, glittering silver... and eases his brothers. "There won't be any violence tonight, dear brothers. You may rest your weapons. Perhaps, there won't be further violence either. Not at least... pertaining to this. Ever again."

Tigrea snorts, having unsheathed this sword as he watched Slain's abrupt movements,  unhands the hilt of his sword... the scabbard materializes over the glass blade as he steps around the table. Laykah, eased his nails as he folded his hands behind his back as he too, stepped away from his brother alongside the table. 

"What ever do you mean? We were just worried about you. " Laykah exclaims.

"To whatever gods! I was ready to take your head. Tut tut, on the lying Laykah, it is so unlike you."Tigrea says plainly.

Book

 Okay, poetry, abandon my mind for a few.

Listen, paper, I don't want to use you. 

Leave, art, for myself you can't consume.

Silence, music, for my heart carries no tune. 

I'll echo my former self 

till my shadow lays no more. 

I'll hold and emotions shelf

Till dust mites my pages bore.

And hope in deafening might, 

my spine could attract unseen.

She who may in fevered fight,

Brush my painful years dust clean.

And take my book, tattered, worn,

perhaps something on its cover see

That inspires a look, upon pages torn,

And glean what has been, that made me... be.

And perhaps continue reading, 

in genuine intrigue.

See why my soul is bleeding, 

my spine withered with fatigue

And fingers brush the old bindings, 

that fraily hold me bare.

Barely holding, barely being, barely keeping, barely there...

And turn my pages gently, but with beautiful intent.

To read and gain mind entry, view the space and be content.

That, I myself conceal

something more than me

That my book is real, 

and in reading, discovers the meaning behind me. 

I've been crying a lot recently. Far more often in shorter lapses of time. Why?

Because my arm hurts.

I've let myself get this bad, and what? Blame me? If you must.

I never thought the singular person that I loved so dearly would bring me to the very point of just wanting my life to just end. To just stop. Slowly, creepingly I've gotten here. Letting things once important to me, just slip away, because my want and urge for them has all but faded. I write this here because no one will ever read this. Not one. And if they do, what? They had no idea I've felt this way. For year. And I don't blame them, but there it is. They simply just didn't know. Didn't see how I was descending. and even if they did... it wasn't on them to pull me up. I admit, that the mere gesture to try to pull me up, would, because it made me matter for those few seconds. I'm rambling. I'm scared. I hate things. I hate a lot. but I hurt more than I hate, and hate tires me. I needed you, Noel... I just needed you like you needed me. I needed to lean on you like I let you lean on me and you stepped aside. For whatever reason. I've been angry yes. Even now I'm crying because I felt so abandoned and disposed of. I needed you there. Urging me, smiling at me. Just... being there for me. as I tried to get back on my feet, from stumbling so much. I needed you. But... to pull the floor out from under me... and just like me plummet; That crushed me long before I would have ever hit rock bottom. And I haven't yet. And it looks like I'll simply die of weariness that's been drowning me, before I ever hit the bottom. Some promises are never meant to be broken. Because they break people. I stood by you, was there for you through everything that I could, and I trusted and believed you wanted that for mutually for us. I trusted you. I needed you. A lot of things led me to this point, but I cry the hardest from how heart broken I am that I've gotten this bad. I was stronger than this. Or so I felt. I was stronger than this, or so I thought. I'm co-dependent, to the degree that if my heart is hurt, there's not much else, because through it all, it still hurts. The things I've always valued are who I am. But being broken, punished and abused for it can only last so long before I crumbled. I... I can't stand up again. I can't slow my descent. And you were all I needed. You keeping your word, meant the world to me. Meant my life to me. Now I just hurt and sit in wait... for the pains to finally just take me and fade away. I cry. I wasn't strong enough for my Littlefoot. And I'll never forgive myself. From the moment that beautiful angel was born, she's been nothing less than my oxygen. And I've been suffocating for an inhumanly long time. I'm very tired. I'm ready to pass out now... Can I..?. please...?

I've been crying a lot lately.

because my arm hurts...

I'm pretty sure you did a number on me. You had to have done so, in order for me to feel so repelled by the idea of ever touching that game again. So repelled by it, that I was convinced I wouldn't be able to even touch it again. A game that we shared, and made some memories with. Of course had our laughs and some long conversations in. We wasted time, and sometimes never even played the game... just sat there and talked and joked around. That's a deep scar I have to wear now. And when you left, it shook my world. It shook it, because I had shared so much of it with you. So much of it... reminded me of you. So I pushed myself to put distance between me and everything that I could to lessen the ache and to ease myself into... forgetting some part of you. That decision included staying away from this game. This rang true for damn near a year.

It's pathetic sounding. I'll admit. Who cares right? Well, I do. Did? :: sighs:: Who knows anymore. Anyway yesterday blizzard sent out a gift email. It was a boost to 90 and 7 days free play time. It really didn't phase me... I was, after all, done with it. I shook my head asking myself "Can I, really?"Yeah, I thought it was cool, but where would I find the fun in even those few days of playing? I began the update to the launcher and game and ran away from the computer, to try to think about something else. For hours... just  away. When I finally came back, the game was ready.  I knew I'd be given pause as I touched it. I knew that I wouldn't be able to move well. I know myself enough. And I was right.

I loaded the game... There it was, the gift boost. Yay me. Now what? I switched servers. From Silvermoon to Arathor. Back and forth. Dozens of times. Wondering... what to delete... what to boost... Why should I? I tried to think of what fun things I could do... and they all tasted bland. Dry, hollow. And they all reminded me of you. Three quarters of an hour passed, and I had not once logged in yet. I saw the toons I worked up with you and wanted to throw up. Why the fuck? Why can't I just... live? I have never been too keen on regretting things, and I work hard to not have to. But fuck... sometimes I wish amnesia was able to be controlled and aimed at certain things. There's been lots of things that have given me great discomfort in dealing with them, and many that I avoid just because of the memories and emotions. I ask myself... if I am such a horrible person, why the hell did I get so much time to share so much of myself with someone? It just does not make sense.

Time goes past an hour when I finally convince myself to log in. An Arathor realm toon. I had forgotten some of the things I had done or where I was. That didn't last. As soon as I logged in, to an alt.... I saw where I was... it was the last place I had been, the last time I spoke with you in that game. And to make it worse... An in-game message popped up. Telling me something as if to make my situation a slight less bearable: ~Your reputation with your guild has dropped by 41999. Your are now neutral with your guild.~ I asked myself "What the hell?" And then it dawned on me. I was in your guild. Then the memories of how I woke up one day and logged in and found myself kicked out of your guild, removed from your friends on there as well. I said to myself.. no... Why do you have to do this? And then I stumbled through my skype and to find some sort of farewell from you. Again. Good times... right? I mean why remember such painful details of something so unpleasant? I don't know.

So there it is. I'm aching inside... not moving. not clicking anything. Just reading that horrid, merciless message. I log out. I switch servers quickly and sign into my old toons on Silver moon. I thanked god I never played those toons with you. Nor shared my guild with you. That would have brought me to tears. Yet... I knew there was something, some remnant of you somewhere. And I knew where. Something pleasant, yet painful. So I went looking for it just to get some sort of a smile. I logged out and switched again to my main on Arathor... the message again: ~Your reputation with your guild has dropped by 41999. Your are now neutral with your guild.~  Yes. Thank you... I am... quite aware of that.  I go to my bank... and sure enough... there it is. A copy of a letter you had sent me in game. I smiled. It was short, kind. Your nature of cute. A little nothing, that to me, meant the world today. Because I needed that smile. To remember, something not so painful. I read it. Sighed. Closed it. Stored it again.  And logged out. I may have gotten a bit of strength from it. Maybe... but it wasn't for that moment. Maybe for a moment in the near future. I closed the game. The letter will remain there for as long as the game deems it. I might even get further soon.

Just... Not yet.

And you said that I ruined things for you. :: chuckles::... Right. 

Imprint

All the sweet words in the world don't account for the truth in the things you do.

Be real: There's nothing more attractive than that.
Have courage: Fear will never answer an "what if."
Be sharp, but smooth; The blade's artistic precision is ruined if edge is jagged.
Be honest; Lies waste other's, but more importantly, your precious time.

People worth good energy flock to those whose eyes aren't veiled by grand illusions. Courage to answer what ifs is better than wondering for life. Let your personality be the sharp tool you use as you leave your mark upon the soul of those you meet, and let your care be the smooth edge that let's them appreciate said mark. Accentuate that mark with the comfort that comes from giving no reason for them to doubt

All these pretty, sweet things, are just that, words.

Until you leave your mark.

A mark, that can't be erased.

A mark, that they don't want to erase.

I don't need favors. I need kindness.

I feel such an ache, a pain so deep as I yearn for those that used to wonder about me. Those that wanted to speak to me and learn about me. So I could relay just how lonely and pain ridden I have become in their absence. What breaks my heart the most, is that it is not my fault they are no longer what I always offered them; A friendly ear.
No one knows this is even here. That I type these things. Because I am not seeking attention. But I need help. I desperately need it. 

People are strange, they hurt where they could heal. Sting where they could be a  salve. I am not expensive, in fact... I come free. But I pay for other's company with heartache and tears. I always wonder, but I strive to not let that change my outlook.



But I hurt.

I am in pain.

I'm drowning...

And it is only getting worse.

I don't need favors. I need kindness.

I may not need them... but I sure as hell still have them.

Words fall short of the wide spectrum of emotions I've felt and feel since your goodbye.

I hope things have been for you, and continue to go, well and exactly... as you wish.


Happy Birthday, Leia.

It's funny. It's always funny how life likes to rip into me. I feel lonely. And I have someone. But she had to deal with life and will be away for an uncertain length of time. I miss her. I want her next to me. Learning her... feeling her... breathing in her scent... Tasting her lips. I smile as I remember her gentle words. How I matter to her.

But that's what scares me. Those words were said to me quite often in the past. Sworn upon and promised with the deepest of situation dependent sincerity. Because they left me. They left me, hard. In no way were they gentle and in no way did they try to ease their breaking every promise they ever made. They almost broke me even further. Perhaps they did.

What I don't understand is why I can't shake the feelings that I have? I miss them sure. I don't lie to myself. I'm not trying to pretend like the relationships didn't exist. I'm not trying to forget. But.... healing is naught but impossible at this point. I shared so much with them, that every other thought somehow is connected to them. Who cares, right? Not them. I've been all but forgotten entirely, and yet here I sit, making another pointless homage to them like they will ever feel what I feel. Because it absolutely is not in the past tense. I don't work like that.

This loneliness is hard to deal with, but I deal. Somehow. Through my painful struggles with my actual life and my daughter consuming the majority of my thoughts; When I sit back and ask myself... why am I so alone in dealing with any of this... I can't seem to answer it. And the thing is... I'm not alone. I have someone who gets upset because she's not able to be here for me. To talk. To share. To learn. But her life has to come first before anything with us can be focused on... I just want her near.

I feel the familiar yearning... for the company of her, the person that makes me feel like I am more than another name. And this helpless yearning eats at me. Reminds me of my past... and I ask myself... things that I don't like. I've been made to feel replaceable and unimportant before. I pray that doesn't happen again. I'm so terrified. Afraid... that the same will happen... but I'm pressing on. I have to. I owe that to myself.

I owe thanks to those who tread on the shards of what's been left of my heart. You taught me that I'm still alive. And that I can feel. I just wish I didn't miss such hurtful people. What good is it doing me? Hoping the best for them, and wishing the best to them should be enough for my soul to rest... something takes this away.

Take your memories.

I don't need them.

A rose by any other...

Names have a strange power. For those with respect and honor, a person's name is no trifle. Some endeavor to remember it, some forget it as if it were nothing. And others only commit a person's name to memory, when they feel they are worthy of uttering it. Whatever the practice, nicknames have a soothing, softening magic. They help, but ultimately it is up to the owner of the name to signal the other, how and if their name is to be used. 

In my perception and manner; I shy from using another's name too easily. Time and acclamation and of course the other's cue let's me know just how I stand with them. Either Respect or amorous intent, names have a power. Some of us feel it more than others. I feel it in my own way. 

"...your name is a golden bell, hung in my heart. 
I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name."

I don't understand myself. I was always timid and shy, but not this worried about people. I've lost the confidence in myself to even be able to look someone I've just met in the eye. I have become that unsure of myself. Words and actions and my own self doubt, though slowly, have finally begun to break me down. I can't stand for that. I miss myself. I miss my laughter. I miss how people took to me before I broke inward.

I miss me.

I mourn who I once was, and I incessantly hope that I can find him again. I need him... I need the I that I once was. He was stronger, headstrong and confident enough to not let just mere words and anger hurt him so. I just have to guess that he just was not indestructible. I seek for him every waking moment. I glance at the mirror bashfully, almost avoiding it, in hopes of recognizing something amongst the ashes for what remains. I feel dry as soot. and fearful as ever. I have so many excuses, I sicken myself. I need to surpass this. My daughter needs me to.

I hide behind my anger. It's all that anyone sees of me anymore, and I rationalize that is enough since they don't truly care who I am. My complaints and controversial views on life are what people know me by. Angry, confrontational and coarse. Inapproachable. Cruel. Only these resonate to those who view me with shallow interest. I've resigned myself to believing that this is okay.

Isn't it?

I am nay sure of myself any longer. 

"You are always breaking the rules, 

no matter what society you are in!"                                -Leia

These words echo ceaselessly...
They are true. 

~Answers~


A guitar without strings, 
a piano without keys. 
The brass with no wind 
and the loneliest of violins;
Would still play the most gorgeous of orchestras
but from within the conductor's mind it's in.

And to those whose mis-shapen worlds
have rendered emotions naught;
would find themselves smiling
when understanding timing of the irony at thought.

And to all rodents who scamper 
in the man-made phaze;
Little difference to albino and runt
but what they remember about the maze.

A game this all is,
even with emotions you need a scorer. 
The world isn't quite yet gone
so it's not... 
quite... 
yet... 
...over.

When what you are watching makes you laugh and reach out to touch the person you wished was right there, and you are reminded why you were watching that to begin with... realizing it isn't working. 

Even the deepest stain fades

Time always pours light onto things. It shows that which really is. No matter what. Truth travels, unwavering. And that, I can be thankful for. 

I will continue to live without creating more regrets. I will suffer for what is truth and I will enjoy when it teaches. it has kept me hap-- no... Content and healthy. And laughter is not far nor foreign to me. We all have our philosophies. 

This is mine.

You lie back, and try to breathe, an incredible weight crushes down on your chest and you as forced to gasp but your soul doesn't live on oxygen. You fill your lungs to the point of bursting, your lungs are fine, your body is well. Your spirit, that's a different story. Your heart lies within you, beating, pulsing, doing its job, yet... everything is wrong. The world isn't ending, but chaos has overtaken your heart.

It's breaking. 

Venting excuse the poor grammar, spelling and lack of topic focus.

The less I pay attention to anything the less I am bound to notice. I think that's fairly accurate for just about anyone. The more time you dedicate to something or someone the more details you are aware of. So, spending time on particular websites is no different. I've chosen to avoid this site for a while, because I've seen the effects that it's been having on me; most of which, do me little benefit. 

Anyway, being as a relationship was started on this site, and it been impacted upon by said site as well as enhanced it... well, I've suggested that my partner and myself avoid the site for some time; use other venues for communication, as it is obvious, this is a long distance relationship. It's bothered and affected us so much, that I came to such a conclusion, and offered that as a different approach to solving the issues that I seem to have been making a larger deal, than they really have ever been. 

Needless to say... all I wish is for us both to avoid it for some time... not me display some sort of control over what she does or does not do. Either way... she is free to do what she wants.  She agreed... ::sighs:: And that lasted for about a day... and today she signed into it to wish people happy holidays and what not. I guess I am so demanding that this bothering me is just out of line. Just merely have us stay clear away from there and her opting to clearly go there anyway, is in a way, her showing her understanding of how I've been feeling about the site and how it has been affecting us. 

So, after agreeing to something that is clear, to then renege on it because you so wish, I guess, a great way to show your dependability and worth of word. It hurt, is bothered me greatly, and as I expressed this, I was told I look at things differently than she does. So this, I am made to feel, is fine and I simply should accept it. Not wanting to spark another argument i simply nod, smile and say it isn't a problem. Because her going there is her freedom. Rightfully so, that is not a problem at all. I've obviously asked for far too many things from her and this was just too much. This is just another one of my bitch sessions. Except, I'll vent here... and  that's it. The chance of this being found and discussed is slim. Heh... As if it matters. Christ I am such an emo right now. 

Merry Christmas... Hope All Enjoy and get what you've asked for. 

Santa has a sense of humor. most times. 

Poetry 5

Crows


The black angels of this world, I doubt thou knew
the Murder's daily flights are far from few.
Around the cemetery treads and tread do you,
without visions of the black angels far from view.
Perching and gliding, flying and perching spies on you
carefully walk your path on the day you now rue.

O! The Murder! The Murder! Who could? Who knew
about the Murder, the Murder that looms about you?
The steady pace... Haste! Haste quickly! And haste to!
the edge of the cemetery, where no one else knew.
Be careful the grave beds or one will own you
because you thought not even the Murder knew.

They fly, they perch. They circle and glide above you
while yours beats beats faster the drink of Crimson hue.
Be still thy HEART! Be still thy HAND! Tis no reason to choose
the fear O! Fear of the Murder that is the essence of you!
But why you? Can't the Murder another unhappy soul choose?
No! Thou hath caught its eye, too late, is too.

Walking, had walked this path you to
hide, endark, yourself seclude.
Hid yourself here to writhe thy hand in blood, so soon
to rid pain of your life, and rejoice it to the Moon.
Thy Evil intent, thy Evil do, can't go without taken Due,
a Due, you wish the Murder had not been to.

But the Murder was. The Murder is. The Murder will, too
bloody be to so, so, so easily be quietly subdued.

Anony--FUS ROH DAH!!!!

If one Cancer patient was instantly healed per every asinine, band-wagon-ing, bastritch, Annonymous-is-now-a-FAD, type post on the net... The new leading cause of death would be an Arrow to the Knee.

~~~FFSgetaclue!

Unsent 2

The snide comments that I make just for the hell of it, all the while communicating with you must be as annoying as being told that I don't make any effort to maintain contact with you  while exchanging messages. :)

Or maybe that is my natural response of distancing myself enough to not be scarred by the: if not commonplace: then accustomed to, simplistic and sudden lack in effort to continue communication.
Caused by a variety of reasons to be sure. Most of which were, are and will be out of your control. But before those even took or take place in order to make all absence 'Okay', I got lashed at by simple choice. Simple choice, I say because according to you, you do nothing, absolutely nothing without wanting to. Every action you take or make is not influenced at all by any of your surroundings in any way.

Forgive me for smiling while I say that. Since you probably already know how that falls apart as i say it. Finding yourself in the currently unbelievably rare and beautiful situation that you are now a part of, because something someone else said, or did. Hmm Hmm.

That in mind, along with the knowledge that, yes, we did discuss this in the past and you had admitted to doing so willingly and without outside influence, angered and hurt me. And so, as I've mentioned my naive masochism before, My coping mechanism for the repetition of such a situation would be my unending sarcastic remarks about the matter. All meanwhile maintaining contact with you. Fair trade I though it in our ever estranging friendship. You choose to let time pass us by, and I choose to show you a percent of how it affects me as the biting need suggests.

But it seems pride doesn't let you honor even that.:Laughs:

We had known from the start the trouble that we'd be to one another. But that's purely Proportional or Exclusively a Point of view now. A sad realization, to be honest.

The damnable Humor of it, to speak like we've known each other all our lives, or argue endlessly.

This is the Second Unsent Letter.

All written, then deleted, Only to be replaced with:

"::sighs and smiles kindly::... I think this is enough."

Myself and I

It is interesting how close-minded I am about people needing to be open-minded.