It's cold, wet nights like this, that we realize how alone we truly are,
Loved ones seem so far away, and the wetness brings forth such coldness that the warmth we once harbored seeps out of our bodies into a mist that billows out of our mouths.
I've never been one to fully loath or embrace the rain, but sometimes I feel as though God is crying down upon us, his lost cause, his disappointment, we are his mistake.
My white thermal shirt is almost transparent, and I catch odd glances from old bags returning from grocery shopping, most likely because of my lack of coat, but I barely need one anymore, I've gotten so use to the cold.
I feel so cynical glaring at families, old couples clutching each other underneath umbrellas, why must I be alone?
Why is anyone alone? We all are potentially good people, and with that don't we deserve a loved one?
Love, such a foolish word to one, like me, who squandered what she, had and what was, left of it.
I am like a shriveled up flower that has been deprived of human touch, a kind word, an embrace.
Cigarettes and Alcohol have been my friends for the past few years; they are the only things that have been beside my side, always near my grasp.
I often cry myself to sleep knowing how pathetic I have been, my life has been retched away from me and I at times wonder why it happened to me.
I was 1/3 of the Golden Trio, but in the end it meant shit to people, so I retreated into my mind, people scarcely hear of me anymore, not that they'd want to.
I holed up in some dingy apartment, only coming out to work in some music store and to buy cigarettes, a bottle of vodka or everclear, or to buy some food, with what measly money I have.
I could have never pictured my life to be like this, but like I always told people. "Bad things happen to good people, good things happen to bad people." Funny, how my philosophy came true.
I was getting closer to my destination, soon my retched life would end, and I would have my peace.
My heart wrenched with the thought of the end of its beating, the final plunge to this sick nightmare. My breathing hitched and I had to lean against a wall to support my body.
Now even my body was turning against me, but I would prevail, this was ending, I wasn't going to lead myself down a downward spiral into self-pity and hate, I couldn't anymore.
I forced my weak arms to push against the wall and onwards, my legs moved sluggishly and my shoes make loud thuds on the wet pavement.
I had to do this, for myself, for those that hate me, for the love that I lost, I had to end all pain, because it was eating me up inside.
A lady walking past gently touched my arm and I looked at her indifferently.
"Sweetheart are you ok? "
"Of course I am."
"Dear, you're crying"
I narrowed my eyes at her and brought my icy fingers to my cheeks, I was indeed crying.
"It's the rain!"
I hurried ahead and left the confused woman behind me. I didn't even realize I was crying. I wrapped my arms around myself and walked faster. I was almost there, this could all end, just a little further.
Loved ones seem so far away, and the wetness brings forth such coldness that the warmth we once harbored seeps out of our bodies into a mist that billows out of our mouths.
I've never been one to fully loath or embrace the rain, but sometimes I feel as though God is crying down upon us, his lost cause, his disappointment, we are his mistake.
My white thermal shirt is almost transparent, and I catch odd glances from old bags returning from grocery shopping, most likely because of my lack of coat, but I barely need one anymore, I've gotten so use to the cold.
I feel so cynical glaring at families, old couples clutching each other underneath umbrellas, why must I be alone?
Why is anyone alone? We all are potentially good people, and with that don't we deserve a loved one?
Love, such a foolish word to one, like me, who squandered what she, had and what was, left of it.
I am like a shriveled up flower that has been deprived of human touch, a kind word, an embrace.
Cigarettes and Alcohol have been my friends for the past few years; they are the only things that have been beside my side, always near my grasp.
I often cry myself to sleep knowing how pathetic I have been, my life has been retched away from me and I at times wonder why it happened to me.
I was 1/3 of the Golden Trio, but in the end it meant shit to people, so I retreated into my mind, people scarcely hear of me anymore, not that they'd want to.
I holed up in some dingy apartment, only coming out to work in some music store and to buy cigarettes, a bottle of vodka or everclear, or to buy some food, with what measly money I have.
I could have never pictured my life to be like this, but like I always told people. "Bad things happen to good people, good things happen to bad people." Funny, how my philosophy came true.
I was getting closer to my destination, soon my retched life would end, and I would have my peace.
My heart wrenched with the thought of the end of its beating, the final plunge to this sick nightmare. My breathing hitched and I had to lean against a wall to support my body.
Now even my body was turning against me, but I would prevail, this was ending, I wasn't going to lead myself down a downward spiral into self-pity and hate, I couldn't anymore.
I forced my weak arms to push against the wall and onwards, my legs moved sluggishly and my shoes make loud thuds on the wet pavement.
I had to do this, for myself, for those that hate me, for the love that I lost, I had to end all pain, because it was eating me up inside.
A lady walking past gently touched my arm and I looked at her indifferently.
"Sweetheart are you ok? "
"Of course I am."
"Dear, you're crying"
I narrowed my eyes at her and brought my icy fingers to my cheeks, I was indeed crying.
"It's the rain!"
I hurried ahead and left the confused woman behind me. I didn't even realize I was crying. I wrapped my arms around myself and walked faster. I was almost there, this could all end, just a little further.