Metamorphasize

Anhedonia

I don't care anymore!

I long for a latibule,

To get away from those who screamed,

Who shouted,

And refused to look within.

They saw death, gore, inappropriate, nakedness on the deepest levels,

How could they understand?

They do not want to,

Why should I try....

My Cimmerian work and I,

The two of us.

Clinging to each other more as people scream about the relationship I have with words.

And how they serve me,

In what they called a demonic manner.

I am Shirley Jackson,

Saying something, writing what I feel is important.

And being screamed at when we do share,

Getting the nastiest words,

Overwhelmed by the word of a demonic world that refuses to accept anything I do.

I am not upset about this anymore,

Yes, You say I'm broken,

I am different in many ways.

I have come to the conclusion that I don't care,

Scream, yell, shout.

Those noises will continue to play through my head,

Giving me more reason to write,

To grieve for how easily the words fall onto the page.

And to mourn the loss of another person who distances themselves from the likes of me.

The sorrows born, the tears that fall.

The marks, the cuts, the bloods,

The paling skin, and body lacking nutrients,

Those things have tied me to my writings they aren't something I do.

They are me,

Words formed within the covenant of God,

Between husband and wife,

Have made a tie from my aching heart to the words that sing from my fingertips.

That click along the keyboard as they make music,

With words,

Within sounds,

And hidden notes.

My orphic soul sings, praising the Lord as it cries out in response to the broken beats of my heart.

The ferly this tale will tell,

The tapestries my calloused fingers chose to weave.

Both beyond my understanding.

A lacuna resides in me,

An empty space that is truly awe-inspiring and terror-stricken.

My heart is broken, yes.

I've lost nights of sleeps, you are indeed correct,

I skipped another meal as I fall back into my rhythm,

But I don't pity myself.

For I know what is wrong with me,

What I am doing to myself, full well,

I've done it before and know the consequences of the actions and decisions I've made in the past.

But I don't pity myself...

I fear myself,

If I lasted this long than there is a reason, it is either to strike terror into the minds of others,

Or to guide them wherever they may go...

I fear for you, you underestimate me,

Doubt me.

Suicide pacts are things I will never make,

If I wanted to kill myself I'd do it when I want to.

I've never broken the barrier formed within my mind that stops me every time a blade touches my skin, or when I grab one too many pills,

If I need someone else to push me by killing themselves then there is something within me,

I am not fully lost to the world.

But you must understand, I never was fully present within my being and within such a world.

You cannot expect me to go gently into that good night,

If you think I am easily cast aside.

You told me to be honest and I became honesty itself,

Something that hurts, but can heal.

Will always remain within the lies that are placed on top of it,

Like a painted canvas, But I remain.

You may not see me,

I may not see myself,

But by the grace of God I will remain!

When I am gone I remain,

engrained within the minds of those who read my every thoughts,

Without grimacing or looking away.

They understood ever word, every syllable,

Every note in my broken chord.

And I will remain in them....

Till the end of time,

You can kill me,

But I've touched too many lives already,

You're too late!

IF they found me, and saw what I make within my soul,

And see what resides within the deepest parts of my mind,

And continue to respond to the messages I leave them,

Then I have reached my goal.

To live an impactful life,

To help others,

And to give them something,

Small,

But something I needed the most when I was breaking under pressure.

A voice, a word, a sentence, a paragraph.

Something that will tell them they are not alone,

The responses I will receive,

Good or bad,

Will only fuel the fire that I tried to suffocate,

The flame that emblazoned within me,

That scorched every part of my soul,

Radiating light, and envisioning the dark,

Metaphorical warmth is all I have left,

I will cling to it.

Never let it go,

As I freeze outside,

I melt inside.