Unfinished..

The monotony of the wake-up call reverberates, screaming through my eardrums; I no longer try to hide. I tore up the pages of my disguise and admitted my misadventures, ready to re-write chapters of the untrue. As complacent as the words were for ones self, after time I realized that nothing is how it appeared to be, slowly leading to displease. You could say I was stupid, but I’d blame it on intelligence used incorrectly and desire. Desire to want something so bad, you push all intelligent instincts away and dodge the proof, that the state of mind you are living in isn’t actuality, but in fact desire for everything to be real. And my lips tell my heart it will be okay, but my mind speaks of a different story. I felt my heart inadvertently shatter into tiny fibers, like sheer glass falling, as if to signify the innate beauty lurking between ink and the unwritten chapters, between the buried and I… except I couldn’t…and still can’t find it.

I waited patiently for the fiery sphere to fall down and leave me alone beside the empty promenade. I see a silhouette moving closer, toward me from the deepest, darkest depths of my most inner self. Is this really me? Or just a shadow representing my future, what I am to become from the events thus far. My hands had lost grip of what was not grasped, and I left myself derelict, shivering by the touch of the tin man.

And as the illusion is discovered, the beads break off the string; the pebbles are thrown malevolently into the vast grimy sea… we sense the exasperating silence of defeat. We break. We sink. We silence ourselves as we loose our battle...