in between of soulless scars

life welcomes death

and when will you know it is the end?

it’s when i’ve learned that sadness has forms. sometimes, they will just hug me on winter and make me its home. sometimes, they will be like dancing and pretending as a friend. and sometimes, they will be dragging me into the pit of my hole which is the edge of my sanity. people will say i should keep on admiring rainbows or keep drinking bottled rains to keep me sane but no, i’m getting tired that i can even feel my feet sore from walking away. as the sadness hibernates into my body, into my skin, and as it became my habit, somehow they feel belonged in me. people will say i should dance in daylight or pick every colored poetry in my bruised skins and let them live but i stay still. i hate it so much sometimes for i can feel that even my buried words hurt too much.

it’s when i’ve encountered whispers and shadows hiding in every flesh i have in my body. i can’t do anything but to unleash them and see how will they drip down into my veins. people maybe wondering for sometimes i even wonder why but i just keep my ears on this howling void, and i rare to see where this sadness will bring me. sometimes, i try to listen to my heartbeats just like what they say but the beats are often fading just like a forgotten memory, and it makes me feel like i’m done that i even etched my last words and hide it into the lines of my palms.
who knows when this will end?
who knows where this will bring me?
who knows when this battle began to exist?
but i just let my feet slip away. my inner voice is screaming “save me, save me, save me”, and it’s absurd that i just wrote it all out one night.

i’ve learned that there are different forms of death too. sometimes, i find them through living things. oftentimes, i find them in my eyes for i know in death, there is no idea of breathing or waking up to die; it’s just a mere void. and somehow i  can feel what it holds. it offers a warm embrace where i could feel like existing just because i am a lover of darkness and of a promise of dreams. and the void inside me seems promising.

and so, i closed my eyes and whisper,
“let me dream alone.”
and by that time, i know—

i am going home.

— 02:09
l. sin, life welcomes death

»» photo (without the words in it) taken from Giordano Bruno.