Old thought and hashes

She used me, I used her. Comforting strangers getting so close. Exchanging baggage but getting stronger. Fortified shoulders brunting burdens of the world.

She looked at me for an easy mark angel to come save her. I looked through her to get melancholy pick me ups and feminine sympathy. Sad soldiers weary from struggle, battling unavoidable inner demons.

Feeling a bond from a distant living corpse. Looking at heartfelt eyes and pushing out more emotion than actually felt. Desperate for love and affection, Gripping for that good feeling for the lingering compassion.

She told me everything inside her. All the curled up, balled up emotional trauma needing an open ear. I listened, cared, to feel purpose once again. Secrets invigorating a slowly dying soul. Soft and hardened at the same time, reaching for the helping hand then batting it away.. Blindly looking for help half the time.

Doing it alone for fear of dependency. Lost touch with the empathy queen who synthesized love.

I’m keeping myself interested in life by drowning in self-doubt and harsh judgments. The continuous
harassment by my psyche, inner self hate storm. Do more harm to my life to drift boredom farther away, lull interest closer to my collapsed bosom. Hated actions, reactions, replayed replayed, life exciting in small increments. Scattered memories tattered and torn for the visual buff in me. Scraps here and there keeping mood above the undertow. Under the weathered cloud to sensualize the dramatic. Sexual course lamentations. First and thirds skipping the second interlude.

Why fight it when so tempting to give in. To relish in hatred of my other side, to dance at his misfortunes. Personality musical chairs. Laughing at the one standing by the side. Remembering a third of my life 12 seconds at a time. Copious memorizing of dreadful dire straits. Shift into dark dreams and partake in the melancholia. Rotate the record, symphony of dull self-pity.

Straining myself to grow and evolve. Pathetic manchild the thought of the hour. Comparing myself to every other individual, the constant shame spirals. Kaleidoscope monstrosity displaying utter self defeat. Warming the lonely brain with past good intentions. The only respite for a chaotic life laid stagnant.


2 thoughts on “Old thought and hashes

  1. I really enjoyed reading because it is me in almost every way. If you ever need some one to talk to contact me. It might be nice to chat with someone feeling the same way in order to find out why and how to fit it

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s