Spilled Ink

adverevivere:

You sat against the window ledge with your heart on your sleeve,
crying into the darkness; you waited
but no one could hear.

Begging for a way out with dreams and needs,
yet no one bothered to lift you up
when you were at your most empty, starlight dripping in your eyes.

Too many ups and downs, while the world was shoving you
this way and that, forced down while I fear sometimes:
I will not be able to say I love you before you go.

Angry because you couldn’t find your way into the dark,
yet you screamed at me to let you jump and meet the concrete;
I waited for you to speak to me as the wind rushed in your ears.

Time passed and the terror subsided, knowing you were frightened;
tormented, torturous lies; deep in my throat I hated for you,
until all I knew was the power of words, some sting like bees.

Sticks and stones may break my bones yet words dig
far deeper and circumstances cut scars so much further than
that knife and the drop staring back at you, little spider scenes.

In the end you could not fit through the window,
scratches and scrapes; still
I would beg you to stay, any day. 

dysphorische:

My muscles twitched, urging me to turn back. It was too late for that. I was already here. I had been here for years; I just had never acted on my impulse. A quiksilver slip of my hand and it was over. The coals were enkindled, and there was no rewinding time. Chaos snatched me up and dragged me to the realms of a dystopian Wonderland. Upon its sombre, ashen wings, I flew high in the nightmare skies. I soared through the tumultuous thunders and the white ribbons of lightning. On an inky nebula, I was fed ambrosial elixirs, unaware of its true qualities. Enticing me, I drank more and more. I sipped the poisons of the other world. I bathed in the nectars of grandeur, all whilst the tempest swirled on behind me. An abrupt whirlwind seized hold of me and launched me back down to earth in a spiraling descent. My eyes now blackened and my clothing tattered, I ached for the solace of my addiction. Relief was granted to me in the form of a misty, midday sun shower. I bottled up the raindrops, my desire, my vices. With a backwards tilt of the head, I felt my mouth mechanically opening. And I drank, and I drank, and I drank.