Ok, this is about Peyton dying. I own no – one! I wanted to severely contrast the beginning from the end, her being innocent at the beginning but dying at the end. Let me know what you think. I know it's short, I may rewrite it and make it a lot longer, but again let me know what you think.
I used to just let things fall into place in my life, using other people's opinions to influence any tiny decision I made, like a safety blanket, hovering over me at all times. Though now I'm finally beginning to 'see the light' – I think I'm finally growing up, not needing the safety blanket anymore. It's kind of scary at the same time, the ambiguity of every little thought or decision is certainly disconcerting to me right now. I never really thought about a ripple effect before, that a tiny thought or decision I make could affect the rest of my life. Anyway, I'm finally making decisions for me, not anyone else, and making them because of what I feel, not because someone is telling me to. I guess this is me growing up into the person that I'm going to be someday, complete and filled with love.
Only I'm never going to be me. I realized this morning. How the decision to let go so long ago caused me to lose myself, lose the person that I could be, as he was gone, and without him, I didn't live, I didn't grow. I didn't live. I therefore made a decision, a reflection upon my life's worth, a reflection of my soul, my heart and my love. I decided that if I was never going to be who I wanted to be, complete, then what could my life amount to? I would be alone, always. Keeping this in mind, I wrote a poem as my farewell to the world of pain and suffering in which I lived.
I look upon the white purity,
Genius, the pale flesh
Thinks to itself, What will be?
When it melds with the sun, the Earth and the moon
To become one, never lost again
In the black magick of life,
Life with it's darkness and white,
Never feeling an unruly rule,
Never touched or unseen
Of the pale skin now drenched in the red darkness
Of solitude,
As I weep,
Staring upon the grave
That was my home,
Forever lost,
Now found
As I take the little blessings,
Drowned in Earth's viable blood,
A spirit appears to me,
Asking me to join her
And I feel welcome, I feel home,
Once again as I stare through milk
Milk I once drank,
And will drink again.
It is then that I take the small pills by my bed, feeling sweet relief as I descend into darkness, never to feel again, never to hurt as I always did, and wake up to find myself alone in a dark, scary place that I called home. I have grown up, but shall never be adult as my life seethes away, blessed by light from my past's resistance.