nothing else but my heart's desire [COLLECTION] | FINISHED

They knew - ORIGINAL PROSE

They knew, even when they didnt. While they say they had no idea, their words make no sense, that dont match up with actions committed against my very psyche, a perpetual form of torment which echoes throughout my mind, it bounces off the walls of my skull, its still there, a seed you planted, for lessons you taught me when I was very young have stayed with me, stayed with me for all time, until my very last day. Deconstruct a lifetime these words, highlighting all my worst flaws, for these have become the first thing I notice when I look in the mirror and the first thought I have about myself when I open my eyes. A never-ending cycle, a sea of my worst thoughts pushing me this way and that, why do you want to be my friend and why did you treat me like that? And you still, you knew even when you dismissed such claims, of a parent who hated being a parent, as much as it was written clear, so painfully, so adamantly across your face. And still, I seek approval I shall not receive, from the one who would shut her ears and eyes to everything she couldnt understand or process, as much as she knew in her heart where lies heaven, hell and truth. And now I write, to remove the parasite in my veins, to rid myself of the pain of relation to my worst enemies and people I hate. But still, I am met with the realisation that I am alone, as comforting as the silence is after I let out my screams, all I get it out of my heart before it festers, because I know, in my heart, as I pour the contents of my soul, that I can say nothing at all. And though it seems that it wouldnt matter if I uttered the words, a light shines through the black around me, as it breaks through the clouds, as each day brings with it its own highs and lows, as the stranger I met who said hello in passing smiled, all to brighten the day, the hopes of someone they shall never see again. It ends on a note of hope, as I try to convey in my life always, for my soul is as complex as it is burdensome in these troubling times. I write to bare the piece of my soul I hid in my words, to allow others to show me what lies in their hearts in this day. They knew, and it has become an odd comfort between the sense of dread which emerges from the gloom, threatening to take hold of me. But I only have to remember that stranger's smile to find my strength again, as no one ever thinks themselves the villain of their own story, even if they are the one to bring shame upon another.