Posted: November 14, 2014 in Thoughts

The days started travelling again and pushing their way through the voluntary death of time; I suddenly had an uninvited realization that I’ve always lived between the gaps of the stories of us and never managed to become one.

I was haunted by walls of colorless, yet meaningful thoughts about how things eventually end, how feelings die, how bodies die and how complete universes collapse and reach an end where no eyes can see; but death is the end of memory, for the dead cannot remember the past nor dream about the future, they only dwell into the grey, let go of the burdens of connections and simply rest.

You see, inside this bubble of clouds, only your skin can make the cogs turn, and we are all frozen in moments that last for lifetimes of nothingness.

I picked a broken mirror from one of the corners of my memory, the sharp edges used to fit so perfectly with your lips; it used to melt and wrap around you until it envelops you with my reflections, with my sins, with my imperfections that you loved… With how unsafe and scary the distance between my eyes and yours was; Unsafe and scary, just like me.
Just like my words.
And I am scared; is a broken mirror just an honest reflection of schizophrenia, or is it an intoxication of a heart that is long gone?
What is the difference between what I see here and the clock that is no longer hanging on the wall?
Time flows frozen through my mind and in the soul of a frame where I kept your photo, but I lost count since you last smiled, I lost; I lost my mind, I lost; until I lost the sense of losing.
And sadness filled me and I filled the world with it, the way I never filled you.

“Have you ever tried to murder my solitude? To kill my pain? To break the back of my self-loath?
Have you ever tried to see the immortal darkness that resides the holes in my face?
Have you ever touched my face as I cry the pain and summon the lies orbiting my retired existence?”

And from afar, a scream echoed in the grave yard where all the clocks were buried.
“You only take the pills because you know that your nightmares are brave at night”.


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