We do for others because we don't know how to do for ourselves. We do for others because we feel it is the only way to make up for the damage we feel our craziness is doing to society. We do for others because it makes us feel good when nothing else in the whole world does, not even pills. We stay quiet and sit in the corner because others seem so much more needy. We require so little, you and I. A fact which does not sit well with others who would label us as too much to handle. When in truth, all those such as us really need is a bit of understanding, a bit of reciprocation, maybe a touch on the cheek once in a while and a sly wink. The rest of the world is needy. I'd rather be crazy. ~~Aimee

Saturday 20 August 2011

Remain Seated At All Times During Ride



Enveloped by fear. Crippled unable to move forward. Lost unknowing how to return. 

I walk through the world in constant fear. Fear of people seeing within me. Seeing the festuring pus that resides within the core of my being. The corroded monstrosity that hides from prying eyes until the darkness surrounds it, hiding its steps from others as it creeps through the world. A silent predator lurking within. 

Ravaged by anger. Seething, boiling, longing to be unleashed. Just to destroy. Anything. Everything. Like a rabid dog, ripping and clawing at whatever happens to cross its path. No reason. No logic. Just pure unleashed anger. 

With every breath I take these emotions roll through me. Slithering and writhing. Tossing me here and there licking me as my senses are overwhelmed by their repulsive stench. I wait for the moment to pass. To release me from its grip. Nothing I can do will make it hurry for it moves at its own pace. Inching along until finally for reasons unknown it simply moves on. Leaving me strewn amongst the aftermath. A broken toy tossed aside by a spoiled child. 



Hurt. Hidden deep within. Locked way in the corners of the darkness. Silent. Overpowered by fear and anger. Unable to be. Unable to grow. Pushed back each time it tries to come forth. Weak and powerless it sits and waits for the moment when it can finally be free.

1 comment:

The Little Penmark Girl said...

Our monsters rattle their cages to the very same tune, ya know. Youse a purdy awesome lil monster, you is.

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