Still

God knows we try. The lonesome souls that swim in love and acne scars. A face beneath warm blankets. An embrace that goes beyond time and space. It’s something in the taste of fresh sea air. The distant calling of love that lingers in the breeze. It betrays us so easily. The music of my agony found so readily in the lines around my eyes. Crows feet and damaged livers. Panic attacks as you draw the curtains shut on the dirty morning sun. It’s the fear of everything as my bones tremble with the simple act of breathing. Sex killers and sadness. The hardest thing is to keep going. It takes so much courage, yet it has to be done. To exist can be hellish, but what we want can never be achieved by giving in to the horrors of apathy, of not caring. The mist of derision smothers, it seduces us into thinking banality is something so swell. We never even realise, we just give in without as much as a whimper. The trap of the day to day. Repeat after me. Afraid of her touch, I turn on my side and pretend to be sleeping. Staying up into the early hours and chasing away tigers. Turmoil in a teacup. Desperation in the bathroom mirror. Drown my tears. Erase my faults, of all that could’ve been, of all that ever meant a thing. Only faith survives. Blood red gums. Drawings of beauty as a mark of devotion. Eat Chinese food and smile at the innocence of animals. Stub cigarettes out on your arms and laugh at the thought of all those endless summer afternoons. Pain is transitory. It teases yet never truly delivers. Memory hurts, yet it’s just a memory. It can’t touch you twice. The past is gone. Gone like all those yesterdays. There’s no going back. No going back at all. The future is what we believe in.

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