I remember when I was a child...even the red ribbons in my hair colored my little world. And then I grew up, only to be living a broken dream. I see people, I hear stories...everyone is after something. It's all about self, and more and more Wants. People are never content, if only for a moment. This self-frenzied world is choking the very life out of me.
Something tells me haunting stories from the past...it beckons painful events...it whipsers unspoken words...it ruffles dusty memories...it brings up all the buried thoughts and strews them across the skies, echoing an evil laughter at the cost of my tears. A ghost haunts my very being, lighting a treacherous fire of my past...a past that won't leave...a love that grieves...a magical touch that's no more. The weight of the unspoken, the unheard, the untouched and the unseen is burying me alive...and the debris is all that's left behind. I'm a piece of a shattered dream...walking, eating, sleeping, smiling, dreaming again...clinging on to the last bit of life that's left in me...burned out yet struggling to breathe...broken yet pretending to be unscarred...wanting to keep alive amidst the death that I've become. Life is a mockery yet I dance to it's melody with my bleeding feet. A debris of life, that's what I've become...a handful of ashes that's thriving to be preserved. I'm no longer fascinated by the red ribbons in my hair...cos Life set them on fire, and all I'm left with is the remains of a child...
(first pic was so very kindly created by my dearest friend Hemz)
I dedicate this post to Margie's friend Steve who committed suicide recently.
What do you gather from this post? Can you relate to it? Let me know your thoughts. Thanks in advance!
Current Music: Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd