Fragmented desideratum.

she looks at me with weary eyes. though her age is stereotyped with exuberance and the luxury of time, her eyes prove other wise, worn down with heavy shoulders and brittle hair. the years of envy and curses that fly by her head have taken its toll on her craved upon vibrance.

she screams in massive thoughts. yet she smiles and overflows with magnanimity. she provides sanctuary to the vile form, that is me. they see the dirt that encompasses my essence. yet she repeatedly tells me through fragrant flowers that i am the diamond that need not be polished. what would i have given for the flowers not to wilt?

everything. everything but her.

the stale smell of the dead and dried petals linger on into my many nights of insomniac memories. reminding me of the well and loved, but now dead and wilted passion that once filled my carapace. the gutter beckons my material body as the chains of post-modernism tear through my skull. knowledge of the revolving world crams my already saturated brain. do i even try and sort my thoughts to clear my mind? never. afraid to lose the few moments i have spent with you. with her.

she. her. you. you fucking obsessive loner. do you not know she does not know you? stop this fucking whining and move on down the path you have dug. clear the way and look up for a change. just look. do you not know she does not bat an eyelid to your tiny existence?

ahh but i do.

but the longing i have for her, is sustenance itself. she sits elbows on knees, and cries the tears which i have shed.

you do not know.

but i do.

Desideratum.

i am lost in the sea that is my words. i cannot seem to recollect where the end begins and where the beginning ends. where, is the needs that i want. the wants the elude my grasp.

complete me.

they do not touch the surface that is me.

you do. complete me.

Forgiveness/Freedom

so she trembles at the candle light, hoping for relief at the sight of the bright beauty it emanates. feeling relentlessly cold at the surface skin shivering at the sight of thoughts, which permeate the soul saturating the aura with holes.

the icy wind howls at the window sill, as if to plead for acceptance and embrace while the rain knocks on the frosted glass. pupils dilated with the darkness encompassing the proximity of the room she built with her heart.

the melancholic sounds waves being spread into the air by the gramophone completes the scene in which she depicts from the depths of her imaginations. colouring the empty spaces with what little dreams she conjures through the chaos of nightmares that has been imposed on her.

she picks up the pencil that has been ridden with bite marks and slowly draws lines. lines which gradually appear to be words. and words slowly put together to form the sentence which bores her skull with passion.

forgiveness, is right where you faltered.

-

she tears the piece of paper and blows it from her palms to watch them gracefully float onto the wooden floor. in this, she sees the enlightenment of herself, and with this she feels the freedom within the solitude.

overwhelming love is only a mark of being humane; and with this, she exhales the hurt and begins to tear. tears filled with loss and hate and frustration.

as dawn in the distance breaks, her face denied of perfection before, is now with seen with closed eyes, and the hint of a smile at her luscious lips. the ice melting on the windows lets in a streak of sunlight. the torn pieces of paper, now together again, read,

you are free.