Loneliness

“Cruel with guilt, and daring with despair, the midnight murderer bursts the faithless bar; invades the sacred hour of silent rest and leaves, unseen, a dagger in your breast.”

-Samuel Johnson

“What is he doing now? He’s fallen down!”

Flickerdim smiled knowingly. “He is sleeping. His kind does it with some frequency. It’s a strange thing, a little death every night followed by rebirth upon the sun’s rising”

The winds of change have come, my torment fading slowly. The snow shall seep and slay tears fallen into an earth that gave me quarter. 

A soul, at last, of tortures clinging free, turn to it - a gaze of sorrow.

Before me lies a path hence forth, uncertain fear aroused towards it. A path I walked from then, ‘til now, a path into tomorrow. 

These winds shall sing my steps along, a lifting pride of lasting memories, those gone. The barbs behind me, barren sick. 

No more, their wretched grasp abounds me farther. Before me, an uncertain black, and yet a certain call. 

The echo of a new order. 

Death, be not proud

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so:

For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow

Die not, poor Death; not yet canst thou kill me.

From Rest and Sleep, which but thy picture be,

Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow;

And soonest our best men with thee do go-

Rest of their bones and souls’ delivery!

Thou’rt slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;

And poppy or charms can make us sleep well

And better than thy stroke. Why swell’st thou then?

One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

And Death shall be no more: Death, thou shalt die!

I know why the caged bird sings

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds sift through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom

This little guy just recited his way into my heart! 

“When I was young” by Sinclair Blue

When I was younger I thought if I asked nicely, It’d just go away.

I thought if I talked to it everyday, became its friend, then it wouldn’t be so mean to me.

Or maybe, if I found the gift receipt I could return it and get something new. Mommy does that sometimes.

Because you have to understand, I really don’t want it or need it.

Quite honestly, it just presents another problem. Don’t I have enough of those?

Instead of this, I’d like a barbie. Maybe a Polly Pocket.

It took years before I finally realized that you can’t give cancer back.

Anne Stuart

“If you lust after someone and have an absurd and overwhelming need to protect them, then the best way to deal with the situation is to marry the person.”

“Rejoice, child, the Demon Lord will return for you. He will survive for you; win for you. You are what binds him to life, for he has something the Black Lord does not, the most powerful force of all. Love.”

-T.C Southwell

The moment when I feel the loneliest…

The moment I feel the loneliest is the moment when I wake up in the middle of the night and find that my blanket has escaped to the floor beside my bed. In a fog of sleep I curl against myself, willing my legs to become their own heater so I don’t have to roll over and pull my blanket back, as if that would break the magic of my already dimming dream…