Eulogy for a Friendship, Once Believed Unbreakable

Alone desert

Attempting to retain your friendship
Is akin to wading through a desert
Searching for an oasis
Long ago burned away,
Cast into oblivion by the scorching sun:
There is no reward in it,
Not even a mote of salvation or redemption
To be found wherever resolve
Used to dictate you in the most beautiful manner.
You have ceased to be what you were;
A shell wearing a mask of your face
Breathes, talks, and carries out your actions,
But I have stared into those eyes
And, like a desert, they are barren,
Influenced by the materials of this world.
It is with spine-tingling horror
That I have realized it is all gone:
The affection that turned to sorrow
Has now drifted from desperation
To sheer apathy—so close to bliss—
And as much as I try to cling
To wraiths of a past I abhorred,
I can only admit in earnest
That I have outgrown you,
Moved beyond you,
And I am fairly certain
This is the last thing I will ever write about you.

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Recurrence

Monolith beach

So long after leaving this field
To rot and decay,
Devoid of precipitation,
Now laid waste even in bloom,
Your voice has echoed
Across this Morphean ether
Where my emotions lay dormant,
Imprisoned by reason and selfishness
To conserve the well-being
Of a deprived host.
Stirred from inertia,
The shock bolsters a stress long suppressed,
Detonating and crumbling this construction
Before your tenacious, anchored feet:
Mere rubble beneath a deific monolith,
Threatening to mummify what remains
In a sarcophagus of unrelenting ignorance.
Despite these pleas you volley
In hopes of I don’t know what—
Comfort or reassurance, maybe?—
I must not engage in this kabuki,
Because I am far too jejune
To maintain posture in the face of your desperation.
Prescience is a curse, despite what they posit,
And though the shaman foretold your fate,
You sought to play god yourself
And craft your own future.
Now, when all has collapsed,
Your gall in turning to me is repugnant,
For I gave you warning
And you chose, at your peril, to ignore me.

Pressured

Ripped heart

You have me caught in a vice,
Squeezing tighter as you twist my mind,
Preying upon my fragility,
Pouncing upon my insecurities
To wrap these strings around my wrists
And make me dance the way you want me to.
Every time I stand up straight,
Expending all my might to snap free,
You twist me right back up in your strings,
Using public displays and adoration
To spin a web of manipulation,
Because you do not want me free;
You do not care to see me happy.
You want me obeisant, feigning smiles
To soothe your insecurities
So you do not sleep alone at night;
But even beside you I am in solitary—
A specter next to you, lifeless—
Wearing only the masks you fix upon my face,
Speaking only the words you want to hear,
And, with each step, further crushing my soul
Until the weight of your pressure
At long last snaps me in two.

Killing What’s Inside

Dead Inside

Numb and thoughtless,
Ruminating on nothing,
Wasting away seconds;
I should be progressing,
But every route is a circle,
So I choose to stop.
Soaking up the inertia—
Sitting, staring, dead inside:
It’s the only way I can function.
Turning off reason,
Shutting out emotion,
Replacing each with substance
To block out reality,
If even for a moment.
The stupor will fade, I know,
But just for one more day,
And I can weather the storm
If it means I can stop living again,
If I can deaden everything inside
So that I do not have to face life,
Make decisions,
Or move forward.
Perhaps this is all to my detriment
But for sanity’s sake,
Or so I will say,
I have no other choice.

Beyond

I'm fine

You are hopeless,
Terminal,
A tumor infecting my mind.
Where I once found you a light
Raining hope on this bleak desert,
I now see you are the opposite,
Only serving as stress
While you wallow and writhe,
Unwilling to stand on your feet
And take hold of the hands
That strain to raise you up.
As much as I’ve struggled
To be your pillar,
The weight of this onus
Has proven too mighty,
And innocuous consternation
Does not mend your wounds.
If this ungodly terror
Has taken such hold of you,
Then I must accept
You’re beyond my help.

I guess all I’m saying is
I lied when I promised you’d never be alone.

Even Angels Suffer

Suffering angel

You’ve castrated me,
Revealed me for my impotence;
I am unable to save you
From the demons that tear at your mind
And gnash at your soul.
I watch, a helpless spectator,
As tortured as you,
Knowing in the end you will perish
Under this insufferable weight
That has already dragged you down so far.
Your immeasurable beauty,
Sadly,
Is no match against this force unstoppable,
Derived from the darkest facets
Of a consciousness plagued by sins
It should not take responsibility for.
It is through cowardice
And no chivalrous attribute
That I flee in this,
Your most desperate moment,
And leave you to face these trials alone,
Because I cannot bear to see
This pain lacerate you all over again.
In the corners of my comfort zone
I weep not for my failures,
But for you,
And pray to every god
You’ll see this through.

Hopelessly Incarnate

silent-scream-woman

I see how you want me now:
Silent,
Breathless,
Dead;
A caricature sans substance
Walking this earth a husk.
You have spurned my words
And painted me monstrous
For speaking my mind,
For daring to perorate
On my deepest secrets,
Because I believed,
However falsely,
I had found a soul who would understand.
Now my worst fear is realized
In the crystallization of your caustic eyes,
Disparaging me for sins I could not repress
And, I am now convinced,
To watch me suffer and bleed unrelenting,
All because you want me silent,
Breathless,
And dead;
But if I am to choose
Between mollifying your puerility
And the liberation of my words,
I will defer to the latter every time,
And if my silence is what you desire
Then, in the end, we will both have lost.

Existential Manipulation

Swing clouds

Detail strikes imaginary,
Fabricating realities
In which no consciousness exists;
Pure creation—
It’s beautiful—
Is the sole continuum
Of our shared existence.
Because you do not engage,
Standing idly at the precipice
Of this monolith we have chiseled,
The grace of this effect
Has taken possession of me alone.
Far removed from the sanctity
You exalt me with,
I use the strength of position
To squeeze the air from your lungs,
Taking pleasure in your writhing;
Manipulation has become my weapon,
And as dexterous with its shaft as one could be,
I use its blade to contort your visage,
Crafting the image I yearn to see.
Earnestly, there is no reason
For this extracurricular,
Except that in a life
In which the color has been robbed from me,
This is the singular vibrancy,
Even if it is horrific and mutilated,
And a desperate spirit
Takes what it can get.

Distance

Alone in the crowd

She sidles along the edge
Between light and shadow,
A soul caught between kindness
And the necessity of intimacy;
Whoring friendship out
To every casual passerby,
Meandering from company to company,
Buying drinks, sharing laughs,
Every interaction as vapid as the last.
At night she’s still alone,
Even when bodies lay beside her,
Feeding her sorrow with the deprivation
Afforded by perpetuated disconnection;
Because in this exposé of camaraderie
There is no true friendship,
No one to turn to in the darkest hours,
Because everyone is pushed away,
Kept at that comfortable distance
To keep her spirits high in the sunlight
While guarding them from her insecurities
And the strife that flogs her every day.
In the end, returned silence
Is her closest companion;
All else is muted,
Colorless,
And she has not yet discovered
How to vivify her world.

Relapse

Weak and powerless

Okay, so I haven’t cast off these chains yet—
Have not removed this burden—
But it’s hard to exhume a body buried so deep
And exorcise the soul that lays dormant within;
Yet this is the challenge,
The onus I have undertaken
To make reparations for my transgressions
And return to form that which I distorted
With selfish ambition and misplaced chivalry.
So easy it is to wallow in this
And allow self-pity to transmute into rage;
It is only then that I feel I could do anything—
Anything except sway your will—
Even though that is when I am at my most powerless.
In the wake of this nuclear decimation,
I am perennially pained by your decision,
Your silence,
Though I cannot say I blame you;
But I must urge you never again to tempt me
Or you will bear witness to me at my most powerless,
And I will make sure that blood stains your hands.