lettersfromthemuses

Peace of mind is like a dream, either you never come back from getting it, or you wake up before you ever can get close.

It's been a week since you went away, and I just started to feel you missing. I know that this is true heartbreak, but this sensation's a bit hard to take. I'm not breathing, my heart isn't beating, and my head is blank. My arms are reaching, my voice keeps calling out your name. If father time won't let us be together, maybe mother dream will. If our eyes won't let us see one another, maybe our memories will. I stay putting one foot in front of the other, trying to get to you still. When you wonder where we should go from here, baby I'll be right there. We continue our treks at differing paces, our paths aiming at different places. I don

The marks on your heart have yet to fade, and watching you act it's like a masquerade. I bite my tongue in silence, for I bear my own shame. To me you're silently screaming, even as you push everything away. Baby, you're too beautiful to be filled with such self-doubt. Baby, you're too confident to know how to bow down. I want you to know that you are not alone in how you feel. The burden you carry is real, and it's shared by someone else. You'll try anything to keep your beasts at bay. Yet even drinking doesn't seem to numb the pain. I'm railing against you so you finally convey. Yet you're fighting attempting just not to break. Baby, yo

People say they relate to everything that I've been through, a statement poorly based on a surface of which I've been subsumed. Never should you assume to know of my afflictions, the devil within my mirror is more than a mere reflection. He is the anger, the self-loathing and depreciation, the second guessing of every venture that I've undertaken. Popping pills, smoking weed, and drinking till I can't think...is not enough to wipe away my memories. They say the scent of desperation is what attracts vultures, but I've almost died twice and I've yet to see any buzzards. Hn, I guess my life is something like that saying after all; it's pride tha

Everyday the clouds they drift away, yet I can't wait for them to come back again. Misery loves company, and I've made myself a friend. Standing in an off white world, I see myself in tears. Welcome the cold embrace I bare witness to my fears. Oh oh oh Shame shame stronger than before releasing pent up rage from complacent self-hate only to start all over once more The cracked mirror reflects on its surface pains gained from mutilation. Anguish raised up from the seedling of holy castigation. Simplicity, though mundane, was better than illicit variation. Penchants for the abnormal normalcy, fractured further divided lines. Oh oh oh S

I cannot reach a decision, about how I am to feel. You were my voice of reason, and I seem lost with you not here. (oh oh) Forgive me the words I've left unsaid (oh oh) May peace be with you as you lay to rest. I trusted your discretion, cause I knew your love as real. Your were always deemed obnoxious, because with me you'd always play. Your words were always gentle, they told me not to fear this day. (oh oh) Forgive me the words I've left unsaid (oh oh) May peace be with you as you lay to rest. I find myself alone again, with misery inside. I want to just be left alone, is my solitary cry. Those like you, that truly know me, recognize my

Desperation claims the lives of many, many a man. Suffering is synthesized from nothing but a single sin. Miscellaneous misgivings driven from within, and yet a heart once whole is broken to be repaired and broken again. A fleeting dream it seems, my life, that is all I'd come to fear. Relentless acquisition of love or lust from friends and peers. Detrimental determination has gained me all that I hold dear. black-hearted jealousy resides in those that I've drawn near. Face not that which views me as prey, and let those who know me speak up and say, that for all my wit and charm and guile... They knew me not, behind my sun-lit smile.

Trust is such a frail, tender thing is it not? It has us willingly turning our backs to others, with the full expectancy of safety in doing so. People never truly understand the depth of such an action, for we don't realize just how fragile we ourselves are either. It is in placing faith in others that our worlds are lifted beyond imagine, or shattered like so much glass; harming ourselves further as we pick up the pieces. For what it's worth, my heart is given more freely than my trust is. If only because I can deal better with a bleeding wound than a poison without a cure. What makes trust so deadly is that it can be so easily turned

As she sits in her white room frustrated and alone constantly crying out for someone to try and alleviate the pains of her wounds She's forced to recognize herself for what and who and where she truly is She's locked inside her own mind with all of her crimes and never once has she come to realize The neighbor sitting beside her is death and the dreams that she has make her break out into cold sweats Her heart pierced by one too many of cupid's arrows forced to contend with one too many who had an angle Kind and gentle words poison a weakened heart and force strips away what's there til it is left blackened and raw So hollowed out she reache

Every time I write I have to open up old wounds, pour salt into every inch and pray the pain comes soon. Every line I write I leave a little of myself behind, so hopefully when I'm dead and gone I'll be on someone's mind. This is no mere declaration of greatness or mourning, it is me giving words to my own self-loathing. Trust like love must be earned, not given; but the scars I wear display I still have feelings. Numbness of the heart, blindness of the eye. With these I close the openness within my own mind. Following the steps of lust, selfishness, and greed reveals the path that I've walked since I was 16. If inadequacy is hidden insid