To never have been in love would have been infinitely better than this.
To have never known happiness, to live in indifference would be infinitely better than this.
To never have been there in this world, living and breathing, would have been infinitely better than this.
~
If you ask me what is this, then I shall tell you that -
It is all the despodency that one should never ever have to know,
It is lives lived and forgotten and reborn and remade
In to forms we cannot even bring into existence except through thoughts,
And all thoughts come from memories,
Memories much better forgotten than to be forced into reliving
Again and again and again sans cess.
So with memories giving into thoughts,
We think and proceed in all hopes of a better ending.
Then thanks to all glory, we find it,
We feel it, create it, we live IT and
It is so magnificent, ethereal, it cannot be true
Yet it is.
It is all the glory that we sing about,
It is heaven made on Earth, it is our world.
Then it stops.
We find the ledge which breaks,
The needle in the haystack and
The bubble, big and shiny, bursts.
Everything stops and you'll be floating
Over a sea of memories again
And seeing nothing but an abyss.
An abyss of abuse and misuse and overuse,
An abyss of endless night with specks of light
Blinking on and off like the headlights
Of a broken down car.
You're that car now. You're at the semicolon.
~
This is something no one should have to go through but everyone does.
Some get away with just a comma and others,
Others end all with a full stop and then some others,
Then some others get both the punctuations.
They get stuck with the semicolon.
The long pause.
The doubt pause.
The hard pause.
And all the indifference and passivity seems better than this.
It still does.
