The Wait

I fear all the ways I have become a burden, appear to have thought of no one but myself. I fear them so much that I may only be satisfied in dreams of dying, to put an end to my foolishness. Yet another part of me wants to be strong, so I get up almost effortlessly in the morning to assume my responsibilities again, surprisingly with joy. Home can be such a prison for the soul sometimes. After I have rested, I get restless again. And how much crying can one do when it is pointless, so I have not cried at all. The wait kills, the brain does not shut up. The amendments I would like to make, the sorrys I would like to retract/give and the words I want to watch stick themselves like blades under my skin, under my frail idea of hope, then take them out as I bleed blue and stick them back into you. We are all poisonous beings. And thre is no shame, no pain in sharing poison. We build relationships upon these poisons, they come in only both blue and red. Like how those who hide in the comfort of their rooms inject love into their veins - we get high on these poisons, high on hurting each other. I have the courage to do that, and I can wait for you until you are ready. These are days when I revel in joy, in beauty and in decay. One day you shut God out, another you embrace with your lung tissues spilling out of your chest. (He knows how much you have been screaming inside) Embarrassing, isn't it? To have let a mere night break you down. The fact is that I let it, I let you have me, I let you whisper these words and watch spoilt children tickle themselves silly with tears the weight of feathers and hurl stones at their heads aching with pain, filled with images of slaughter and wanting so much to have that first moment when they learnt how to breathe before drowning in their mothers' wombs. Was that me? My mother is not a bad person, it is not her fault for having loved me with so much water. My brother told me about the boy who wanted the moon, he said many people died for him as they made ladder after ladder to ascend the orb. Have I killed you in this way too? The world has no tolerance and we discipline those who have made mistakes with actions, courageous ones, the kind that pricks and breaks itself like an egg yolk full of fresh venom into your life. Life, because suddenly a human represents humanity in all its vanity and lack of compassion. Don't get me wrong, I lack it too. I lack it for myself. I know how to stand here with a knife in my hand to protect myself, but should I need to rid myself of me, I will gladly do it. Though slowly. Though surely. If I wait for you, will you wait for me?