Alone

These few days I find myself staring more at still waters than starry skies. Asking more of the what not than what if’s. In an attempt to adjure angels, I spawned demons instead. And these demons are past abominations, drowned along into the still of time, now only to be back into the abyss of my mind.

I find truth in deceit, life upon death and among the various antonymic conjectures; I solemnly swear. I am not infallible. I have down times and up times like a rollercoaster, I have times when I write simple and times I go in riddles. Then there are times when I thought my predicament would be worst of than others, and that it had imploded into a global endemic. Even I admit that’s not how it should be...

As my mind screamed through the inner core shedding the skins of my emotional sore. I closed the gaps between the void of my soul in writing. I find this close amidst the openness of everything, and realise this is perhaps my only chance at salvation... For there are too much things on my mind...

Things that have no meaning, no impact upon who or what I am. I don't even know why I have these broken things within me, inside my head. But I have to record them anyhow - because I have to tell them to someone, someway, somehow. Because I need someone else to know. To maybe, possibly, understand.

Because I don't want to be completely...

Alone.