i grew up watching my parents
who grew up watching my grandparents
and now i live with them all and see
maybe that's why love has no meaning for me

i grew up watching my parents
who grew up watching my grandparents
and now i live with them all and see
maybe that's why love has no meaning for me
rage. misunderstandings.
suppression. manipulation.
a broken family. a perfect facade.
isn't it haunting? when you fall so deep down the rabbit hole, even a droplet of rain cannot reach you. when you live the same hell in your nightmares, always. when the lines of reality blur; and you're left lost, forlorn and exhausted. yet again.
when you have no respite, even in your dreams.
sometimes the only times you feel alive are at 3 a.m. on the bathroom floor; with tear streaks running down your cheeks, and pain and emptiness embedded deep within your sunken, tired eyes.
your own self not in your control. your body and mind surrendered to another; with no say of yours. you stand there, more scared than you have ever been.
their estranged figure looming, haunting, haunting.
your screams not being heard. your body frozen up in shock.
the surroundings a blurry detail.
not enough oxygen, and yet, too much.
your mind a confused haze.
you want it to stop. it won't.
and what do you do in that moment? that moment where your entire world turns upside down and everything familiar to you is torn apart right from its roots? when your lungs stop working and your horrendous heartbeat is all you can hear. when everything feels surreal, and you hope that you'll wake up tomorrow just fine because this has to be a dream. when everything is numb. when you are a stranger to yourself.
what do you do in that moment?
coffee, water, wine.
the taste of bitter love; habits that destroy you.
all so different, and yet, just the same.
they'll all burn down your throat
still leave you wanting more.
dangling your legs in the water just a little longer. holding on to a bewitching memory just a little longer. lingering at the end of a conversation just a little longer. clinging on to a devastatingly beautiful hug
just
a little longer
that was the way she felt; either all at once, or nothing at all.
there was her, and her prison of a mind. maybe they were one and the same; she did not know. rough nails, flitting eyes, the constant trying of finding a way to escape. invisible, yet present in the moment. just a dump of broken promises, yet so much more than that. screams that were as quiet as a whisper. it hurt. it hurt. it hurt.
what do you do when you fall in love with someone's façade?
im alright. im alright. im alright.
repeated with such fervour, almost as a chant.
in the end, who was she convincing?
the others, or herself?
perfect is a word i've come to despise. a social construct that does nothing but limit. it takes you somewhere you can never be yourself. always striving to go and fit into that tiny hole up there, when you are so much more than that. when you can engulf that hole and spread extraordinarily beyond that. when you can be infinite.
perfect is what limits us, because we are so much more than that.
a promise is not an easy burden to carry.
but for you i will carry it to the grave.