a ditty for Ophelia (madness makes me a poet)

||||noise||||
the background noise
of
despair
::static::
such
goddamned
desperation
and somewhere in the distance
i can hear you
s c r e a m i n g
that i
can tell you everything
that you love me

my devoted romeo

(well
your name's not
romeo
but any other name
would smell as sweet
and fit the bill)

and somewhere
through the clouds
i know it's true
but life was never
quite that simple
i couldn't
even if i wanted to
and i do

i am

((((bound))))

(((shackled)))

((constrained))

by
my

(past)

my lips are sealed
by damage done
before
and i tell myself
when i look in your eyes

~! you are not them !~
~! you are not them !~

you would do the things they did
you won't say the things they said

but still
there's this
godforsaken
pounding
in my skull
in my heart
the voices
in my head
they tell me
i'm on my own for this one
they're chanting

~alone~
~alone~
~alone~

and i'd cry
if i remembered how to
and i'd call you
if i had the guts
and i'd tell you
i'd crumple into your arms
and tell you
...everything...
if only i could be sure
the wildness in my trembling voice
would not make you love me less
and i know
i know
because you've told me
that it isn't true
you won't
->->->->->-run
from my demons
but i am
ashamed
for you to even see them
and i hate myself
for needing you the way i do

i'm supposed to be an adult now
i'm supposed to have control

i'm like a domino
one little piece of sanity
teeter
totter
and
then
f
a
l
l
s
and i am gone
lost into the forests of my own demise
and i am MORE than this
i am stronger than those memories
those flashbacks
flash/
/back
of suffering

*sudden light*
"no"sweattears"no"ignoredused"no"screampain"no"
*dark*

and i wonder
if there was a cross i was supposed to be on
and then
despise myself
for sounding like a martyr

madness
takes its toll
control
and i wonder
for a minute
who is truly
in charge
of me
me
or
my
i * s * n * t *
* n * a * i * y

w
h
e
e

i pant
i'm scared
i don't want to close my eyes
and see the blood
the blood
that seems to never
wash off my hands
aye
there's
the
rub
and i rub
and rub
and rub
but it was never mine to wash away

and i don't want
to speak to you
and drag you in
beside me
because i love you
i scream

}}}}i love you{{{{

i am
ophelia
consumed
consumated
by this
and am i quite
as beautiful
as she was
with her flowers
and her river
and her songs

i hear her singing

holyholyholy

and i know
i KNOW
that it wasn't hamlet
i fell for
but
lysander
the faeries fucked things up
(they like to do that)
and made him fall
for me
ophelia
disguised
as
hermia
and i wonder
if he'll feel betrayed
when he pulls away the veil
to see
my face

is this what salvation
is supposed to look like?

damn it

i feel somehow
cheated

but i will not let them win
those fucking voices
i am not
what they perceive
i fight them
i must
prevail
i must
i must

[clench my hands]
[i pour everything]
[everything]
[into these hands]
[my writing hands]

and

~ r e l e a s e ~

and
it's
over

i weep
i weep

but there's nothing
left











**************************
note:
repost. and this is exactly what goes through my head during a moment of mania... when the voices and the flashbacks and the memories and feelings drop on me like an anvil... i wrote it today while going through it... just... WRITING...
i'm ok now...
just...
weary.