Paradise for demons.

“It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back so shake him off.”

I have suffered. I swallowed the poison and held myself like a saint. I have wept for the dawn did not break. But I like to keep myself strong despite my blind foolishness. I still love despite all of my hate. I thought I’d buckle under the weight of all my unreciprocated love but instead I’ve carried it with a martyred soul. And for my suffering God has repaid me with strength of character, certainty and a wise heart.  

This week has been paradise for the demons in me. I was damned either way. I found a darkness in me that needed to be unbound. I untied the ropes and let it consume me.
"These violent delights have violent ends"
I ended it violently. Abruptly, I murder the love I had for you. I would have cut out my own heart to have stopped loving you but instead I saw a beast in you. Something hateful and cruel. I could see no way but to cut you out.
"Hell is empty and all the devils are here."

Fever.

I can’t be certain of what happened but I’m pretty sure it went like this:

He changed his mind. It feels like a sudden fever that spreads from your head into the rest of your body making you ache with the sickness of fear. I felt in my bones, my lungs and my heart. It shivered through my veins, moving like poison. He has changed his mind about me. It’s hard to hear the reasons when all you can think is; I wasn’t perfect enough. I contain my despair and force my howl into the dark. I still love you. How can I ever love myself if he doesn’t love me?

Love is only beautiful when it has been blemished by sadness. Always, you feel most alive when you're ready to die. 

Pain makes reality come into sharp focus. The only time I’ve ever felt so alive was when I felt like dying. 

I’m overthrown with self-hatred. I open the plastic bag he left outside of my door. My favourite shirt smells of him. I lunge forward and vomit in my paper bin. My hands shake as I grasp the metal edge of the bin. A sharp ache hits my chest and I want to die.

I want

 I want

I want

Help.

 No. I shake my head and refuse myself that privilege. I lost that when I decided I liked no-one. I won’t let anyone else carry my burden.

I have a choice.

Carry myself or kill myself. If I stop caring I’ll survive. I’ll be like a ghost. If I die, I’ll definitely stop caring. I will stop existing one way or another.

I notice the pain killers on the dresser.

This was the moment that I would die inside.

Poetry is a lie and love is dead. There's only beauty in indifference.

I sit alone in bed, left with my thoughts. I open the curtains slighting and glance towards the stars; it is a clear sky and I can't help but smile. My phone lights up and I see that name grace it's screen. I feel a swelling in my chest and it makes my heart ache. That name. It provokes desire, love and happiness and I let these all of these feelings overwhelm me for a short moment. But then they withdraw, allowing me to breathe. One thought lingers in my mind.

Where have you been my whole life?

I once dreamt that our souls were carved out of the stars and that we were two halves of one star. 

My vision is blurred by a pale incandescence. My focus finds the bottle green of the living leaves that are dangling on the trees above me. My fingers grasp the cool earth beneath me. My hair feels damp and my skin is cold. In the distance I hear the howl of a wild beast. The dawn is coming but I feel a calling from the night.

I feel an ache fill my hollow chest; an ache for a lost love. A cry escapes me as the darkness of distant memories holds me. The dawn spills golden light into the forest but I am already lost to the night.