Drugged up outta your mind arent you? Gimme back my mother.
Day 3. Hopefully there’s an improvement. Infection should go down by now right?
Tubes tubes tubes snaking its way out of her skin. Pain pain pain and her courage is wearing thin. Its worse mch worse these numbers on the charts. Telling me a story which only worsens a fearful heart.
It’s strange how it takes a trajegdy to change judgement.
Never seen my dad cry so bad. And suddenly in times like this, I start to pray. Because it’s easier to believe in something bigger than you than to be strong by yourself. Get better soon, ma. So I can apologise to your face.
We tip toe around the letters of our oaths, daring to wake up the sleeping giant of paranoia. And with every breath that I sync with my every step, I find myself drawn to the fisticuffs of this jealousy. To have walked careful steps in this detoured route and in the end have sand in between my fingers instead of rich fertile soil, I should have just ran all the way. Instead of this intricate dance of pleas and letting go, I should have thrown all my caution in the wind and let the swift breeze carry away all my doubts. And just. Let. Go. Like the motions of leaves swirling in its own miniature tornado. But still. To be a tornado and uproot everything around me in my own selfish treasons; I will not stoop that low. With all this centrifugal forces pulling me away, apart, by whom I knew to be my family, and from what I do not wish to lose, that is, self preservation and peace of mind, and lastly, away from who I have found to be my tether to all that is right and calm; I have learnt. And lost. Fought. And wronged. But no, I won’t run. I cannot be carried away by irrational thoughts anymore. Because if I were to stay in your orbit, I will rotate on my own axis and let you see, let everyone see that I am my own again. But that doesn’t mean I cannot end up on your green plains.
It’s not a choice that you have to make. What I’m trying to tell you is that this is your right. Take your independence. Take your freedom. You wont lose your heart because it has deeply entwined itself to your love.
I am cold. I am washed by the night’s breath, blanketing me in it’s sweet deceitful promise of a dreamless sleep. Of any kind of sleep. I am cold, but I am not shivering. I am not shivering, but my bones are jumping still. Towards something, somewhere, someplace that could keep me unconscious. Under wraps and under care. The whispers of the breeze telling me rumours and secrets that keep me running in my head. Lethargic but focused; tired and uninspired. Tired, oh so tired. So with the chill in the air and these words carried around in the wind, I sit here, cacooned by familiarly strange buildings and careless souls, with feet purposed and sure, and minds set on a track. I sit here and I watch reality swirl around in their midsts, brushing my face once in awhile, dancing with the breeze of which feeds me words that I dont phantom to understand, joining in and telling me things I already know, telling me ‘you do not belong to yourself anymore’.
I made your bed. With pillows of soft cotton and cashmere quilts. And when you sleep you will smell my reasons in your down, my intentions in between your sheets. And when you dream you will dream of me. With satin in my hands and and silk as my shoes and you will see me tread carefully to you with the threads on my feet. Finally, when you pull me close, you can feel the sequins of my skin, smooth yet rough along the edges and you will think ‘I have gone far too long without my fashioned sheek’.
Keep doing the same things over and over and over and i have been good i havent even bothered you because i didnt want to screw things up and all this its happening again and again and over and over and when will you just stop and think and look at me and what you say to me and what you do to me and just stop and keep your words with me.
