Everyone I have loved is dead.

Loss is merely a word.

The feeling associated runs much deep. It turns your heart inside out like a nightgown left untouched on a bed. A voice soft a hand holding a rosary. It rings in your mind on repeat like the remains of the noise of a walking stick guiding its owner in the right path. It reminds me that everyone I love is dead.

Loss can make your senses cling onto stimuli. Your nose to a scent of the fragrance she wore before she let her hair down.

Your skin to her touch while she held you close to her heart and your eyes to her laughter when she let her heart out.

Your tongue remembers the way her cooking tastes, your eyes well up when you see her face.

Loss can isolate you from your environment, it can destroy the fabrics of your heart strings and the links with the people that make it sing.

Sometimes, loss can make you guilty. You feel responsible because sometimes loss can stop misery.

Loss can relieve you, take you back to her screams and shrieks, pull you into a devastating scene, play with your mind playing haunting memories as if in rewind.

Her sadness,

Her mood swings,

Her pain killers,

Her nose bleeds.

It can take you back to her blue bruises and her cold feet. Loss makes you believe that she must be happier 6 feet deep.

It reminds me that everyone I love is dead, everyone I have ever loved is now dead.

Now it’s just me, just me and my losses.

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You & I

You are not who you used to be,

you’d play with my hair till i’d be asleep.

You are not who you used to be,

your eyes speak a thousand sentences more; than your mouth can speak.

you are not who you said you’d be,

breaking every promise like i’d foreseen.

yet i am not who i ought to be,

caught up in who and what i am used to.

Embraced by an alien that comes from the deep.

and i am not who you thought i’d be nor am i…

what am i…

or what…

i ought to achieve.

Darlin’ will we ever be what we’d perceived?

 

 

Note: To whomsoever it may concern, my form might be wonky, I write when i feel inspired to. This is a personal Blog.

Entry 01

I’ve been on a serious writers block, 2 years is a long long time but i’m trying to get myself back on a roll.

My creativity and interest in writing sort of got blown out like a candle and i was left for the welcoming of this thing called depression.

I’d be lying if i said i made much progress healing, a lot has been going on and i wish i had the energy to type everything down but i’ll need to conserve my strength to face this absolutely shitty world that we live in tomorrow morning.

I feel exhausted and so out of place, life has only gotten harder after mum’s demise and though i try to find a silver lining, the melancholic psycho within me often prevents me from going through with my positive plans.

I’m really tired with the life i’m living and the disinterest that i’ve got growing against life only seems to be widening the gap between me and my so-called happiness.

I’m trying to keep this vague although i really want to detail, i’m going to stop here and hope that soon i can come up with material for this site.

Au revoir!

 

 

 

 

 

A pensive letter to nobody in particular.

04:45 am

There are nights when i cannot sleep and have to accustom myself to caffeine and nicotine to stay awake and avoid my treacherous thoughts.

It is quite except for the sound of my ceiling fan, keyboard and the occasional vehicle on the road. I write this because i am restless, sleep escapes me when i try catching up to it.

Mumma won’t leave my mind. It has been exactly a month since she departed from us and i can’t stop thinking about the woman who birthed me, who nursed me, who taught me, who loved me and whom i loved so very dearly that the thought of her now makes my heart ache.

I wish to see her again, i wish so badly to join her but not now, for quite some time because i have got things to do for her, finish what she started, help her help me reach the dream she wished for me.

I can’t stop seeing her smile, i’m unable to put an end to these painful flashbacks, i can’t stop them from engulfing my mind every single time i sit idle.

So i write, it is saddening to think of her, in her grave, buried into the soil she grew me upon.

I am melancholic, i am miserable, i am gloomy, sorrowful i am all of these words and more i am a grieving child.

I cannot seem to forget my mother’s image, the hospital, the smell of the diseased and the disinfectants from the broom closet.

The heart monitor, beep-beep-beep it’s maddening, it won’t stop!

make it stop it annoys my mother, yes it does she told me it does, no, i am seeing things again. I’m in desperate need for her lap to lay on, i cannot sleep, i am restless.

I do not care for how i write for this is no piece of poetry, nor a story, these are my feelings which go beyond comprehension. I cannot forget her suffering, the ventilator, the injections, the blood clots, the wounds, the screams for mercy the screams for help, her screams for god her screams for life, she wanted to live, she fought so hard, she fought for 31 days, she fought and she fought, family came, everyone came, but life didn’t come.

the shrieks came, the tears came, the silence came, the life didn’t come, the heart monitor finally stopped beeping and though it used to irritate me before, i would’ve done anything that moment to hear it beep again rather than watch her die and help her close her eyes for the first time, for the last time.

I saw her, lying there motionless, she was never a woman who would sit still for anything, i just stood there shaking her begging for her to come back and fucking hold me again.

Hold me, i can’t do anything without you mom, i am nothing without you please don’t leave, i called out to her, with each cry for a miracle my calling grew louder and i had to be pulled out of the MICU.

They unplugged her, then they wrapped her and then i saw her get pushed into a freezer for preservation, for your final goodbye 2 days later.

It brings me to my knees sometimes, it makes me pick a corner to cry into, silently for i must put a brave front for everyone because all they want is for me to stay strong, it is impossible to stay strong at a time like this when will they understand that it is only one containing themselves until they can excuse themselves to go to that damn bathroom stall sink to the floor and let their soul weep? Stop being sympathetic that my mother left me, if you want to be of any use distract me or let me grieve quietly.

I would kill to make her laugh, her laugh was the most beautiful sound, it made me laugh, it brightened me up, i hear it all the time, echoing in my mind.

I am in pain, it has been 31 days of pure misery and i am a total mess trying to gather myself back together.

Her hugs were like a big summer heat wave, warm and it hit you with so much force you would be sure to get squished, her hugs shielded me from most of my fears, her hugs were full of life and love, just like her. The last time we cuddled reminded me of sharing my bed with her every single night until at 13 i told her i was too grown up to sleep next to her, i wish i hadn’t, now i wish to sleep next to her and hold her while she’d stroke my hair and put me to sleep.

I can describe her hugs and cuddles as my favorite memory but the only thing i can remember so vividly and feel so clearly is her stone cold corpse. Frigid, nothing like her.

I avoid the cold, the season i loved, for the fear that something might trigger these memories, or something of the exact temperature might fall into my hands.

I love the summer now, summers were just like her. Summers are beautiful, just like her.

I shivered, shook and crumpled on the inside, as i slowly dropped mud and gravel onto her coffin, those tapping noises almost mocked me, they screamed at me that no matter how hard the pebbles fell, she couldn’t hear a thing and that was the last time i called out to her.

I haven’t gone to her grave as yet and i’m scared to wreck myself for a second time and this time i’d be on my own.

I will try not to let my lips tremble at the sound of your name or the questions asked about you, I can’t promise that i’ll stop looking for corners to cry into, but i promise i will cry only when i really need to. You are my everything, and i will always cherish you, there can be no you and i will always love you.

You told me i was the most precious earning of your life, you were wrong. You were the most precious earning of mine.

Everything i do, I do for you.

Goodbye mom, rest among the angels for you deserve nothing less.

I miss you.

Haunt

He gripped me, sinking his bitten nails deep into my arms, I winced in pain.

He shook me with a force so violent, like a child unhappy with a brand new toy.

You are nothing, you are nothing but a whore, he spat, if his words were venom I would’ve long been dead.

I shut my eyes and let him drop me, sinking to the floor I cradled myself, awaiting the blow that was about to come.

I waited, and waited and waited.

It never came.

Shivering I sat up, wiping my forehead, another nightmare, another haunting memory I longed to forget.

 

 

Puppy

Dear puppy,
I asked mommy that I wanted you and that I needed you in my life.
I told mommy how much I loved you, my puppy, but you were so stubborn!
Such a naughty and difficult puppy.

But mummy let me love you still, my puppy, not that I ever listened to mommy!
“He’ll make such a mess! He’ll make you clean up his mess! He is a mess!”
She said, they all said.
Yes, puppy was a mess, but I loved you, my little puppy and I took care of your mess, my mess, no matter how dirty and tiring it was!

I cuddled you, my warm and loving puppy, you nudged my nose with yours and looked back at me with the most tender and happy big brown eyes, life was perfect for me and my little puppy.

But a day came where I had to say goodbye, I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to!

Don’t look at me like that puppy, I promise I loved you.

Star Gaze

I stared blankly at my notebook, ruled lines ready to be written on, mind hunting for imagination, for a clue, for an idea as to what to do. 

I wanted to write, my mind was overflowing with emotions and thoughts that I wanted so desperately to turn into something beautiful, something innovative. 

But I couldn’t find the words, you see, I  couldn’t quite force sentences to form. I didn’t know where to start. 

My mind stayed preoccupied. 

Do I start with your finger tips, do I draw or do I write about their gentle feel? Do I start with your puckered lips, pecking their way up my hips? Do I start with your hazel eyes, dimmed down to a chocolate brown full of desire and need, making me weak in the knees? 

Or do I start with my bended knees, hunched over heaving like a victim to disease? Do I start with my pleas, my ignorant brain failing to register that you’d fallen prey to your own fate sinister? 

Or do I start with my tenacious demands to hold on to what was left, of the boy I once knew? Nonsense, he still remains intact, inside that body I grew familiar to. 

I still love him, I still love you. I still star gaze, looking for you.