Wanted to see the brighter side

The blue sunsets,

the cold sun rises, are here.

The breathless me,

stays restless on the bed.

The sin is electroducted

I did it with my own bloody hands.

Must I seek forgiveness?

With these sinful hands ?

I can't figure out the calmness

of this calamity.

Why must this pain be so gentle?

The empty abyss is void of the familiar storm.

I can't seek revenge.

My helplessness is horribly grey

like the lonesome car,

the empty desk of the building,

that vine clad flowery wall,

the forlorn sidewalks,

and the cold blue skies,

are without you,

and within me.

The winter sun troubles me.

It fails to comfort the frozen skin of

my empty hands.

I hear the rattling of my icy frozen bones during the white nights.

I pour my liquid brain

into the obscurity,

while my darkness gets

drunk with me.

Your thoughts

intoxicate us.

Keeping us from

giving into the insanity.

But my heart has set itself aflame

and I blame none.

It doesn't burns,

it's gentle like the spring mornings,

yet the sadness of the retiring winter, thuds my heart.

Winter's harsh but it returns,

but will you?

dare I count the days,

breathing a day 

without you 

is a stab.

 

I wonder how all this must end?

it must end,

it will

and your thoughts will lose their  intensity.

Or so I hope

and I hope when it dies in me

it leaves behind a soft flower bed and not a harshness for life

Maybe it will not.

But I can't seem to forget it all.

Am not lonely in my imaginations anymore.

The horror is immense.

I have unlearned sharing,

I have unhooked my shelf

of the grieving trees.

The tangled strings of 

my heart are just

as hurtful as the earphones

that plays your voice and the symphonies.                                 

The symphonies,

which are

not the same for me anymore.

They have started 

clogging my throat. 

I am not alone in my head anymore.

You haunt me, so vividly.

I see the signs everywhere,

you are alive everywhere.

And your impossibility stomps over my heart,

And your idea rots my head,

And it kills me 

And you kill me,

and you choke me to death.

But can Death be any sweeter?

©jessika