Sunday, February 12, 2012

Insomnia and Melancholia


Defense mechanism instructs my body to function. The heart beats in its dysfunction. I don't want to live any longer. My thoughts, uncontrollable as they get, roam through the past. Always embracing the smallest parts of you. Talking to you as if we had known each other forever. The tiniest fraction that I could not hold together.

Unwanted memories. Fading. Rising.

You are perfect being who you are. Your unknowing confusion. That restrained pride. The child who runs and hides. And I love you. I love you. I love you. When it concerns affection, you know I'm the best liar you'll ever confront. I weave the most knotty tale as a spider's web. Savoring morning dews. Ensnaring delicate preys.

Tick tock tick. Five o'clock passed. Shouldn't I be sleeping? Dear years, the oldest clock on the wall, tell me when it is time to dream. For in my dreams, you always left. Vanished. Never a warning. I had to catch you. I had to regain you. Lost in the invisibility, I just knew where to find you. Barrier after barrier, my hands will open the one door that leads to you. The way you always came back to me.

Question. And you always will. Cause I always do. The archetypal cliche: No one else makes me feel the way you can. As much as no other will have the same toxic ingredients you tasted from me. It takes a suicidal Scorpio to lure you into the land.

But I never asked you to love me. That would be wrong. All I ever wanted was to let you know you're not alone. That I will always be here. A constant friend. Even when you're strong enough on your own. When you readily distance yourself from me since you can't need me. Either a promise, or a curse. I will never ask.

Sometimes, it destroys me to diagnose what you did to me. You required something tragic just to talk to me. A broken bone. The death of a friend. Deafening silence. You don't devise a reason to talk to someone. Do it because you want to. Not because you have to. I am not an obligation. Communication is not a waiting game.

Which one came first, insomnia or melancholia? Did the two happen simultaneously in my case? Between busyness and avoidance, which one commands you to ignore me? I miss you so.

Understand.



Sunday, February 12, 2012, 11:19 AM

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