Heavywords-blog - Her Thoughts Transpose Into Heavy Words - Tumblr Blog

In my skin

Without hesitation I can admit that your existence has been imbedded into my very being. You are not a subcutaneous substance, marrow in my bone, or a visceral feeling in my veins. You are my skin, bone, and veins. You live within the flesh of my conscience, and the blood of my thoughts. The bones of my soul clatter as you pass them, tripping lightly within my core. You've infiltrated every molecule of my foundation. You're like the shared electron in covalent bonds which make up the structure of who I am. Without you I would be dismantled and left in pieces with remnants of who I once was strewn about. 

Running, hiding, finding hollowed out places. All in order to shield myself. Obscure your view of me. I like making myself purposely invisible. At least that way I know that your not being able to see me is of my accord and not necessarily an indirect consequence of who I am. 

I'd rather be forgotten than purposely ignored. 

I guess I just try to make the best of a bad situation. 

Torches

It is quite true what philosophy says; that life must be understood backwards. But then one forgets the other principle: that it must be lived forwards.

When our paths became subjects of serendipity I believed they had merged permanently, that somehow our footprints would always be paired by our own combined sense of direction. However, at one point or another the cracks began to show the early signs of divergence. Soon you went on your way and I mine, but I always believed that in the darkness of uncertainty you would find your way back to me - I carried a torch for you. It held the flames of hope and possibility for our future which at one time ignited a passion bright enough to quell the fears of darkness. That was a time ago, and I've come to realize that the rag was soaked with memories which hold eternal in a time long past. Every second that passes steals something from you while depositing it into those moments because while the man in those memories, the man I love, holds eternal you continue to remain forever changed by life decaying on your path. At a time I believed the vision of me holding a light for you to follow would change you back into who you once were. Sadly I was naive in believing a person can change another. We can only watch as time strips off layers of each person and reveals the result of experience mixing subcutaneously with the soul. I watched and I waited but I wept for the layers and recoiled at the sight of a man I barely recognized. If you bore any semblance to the treasured memories of mine it was all in physicality and even that had succumb to the murderous hands of time.  

Alas, the fire is no longer as luminous at it once was. The emaciated dreams of our youth are slowly burning and catching flight with the dancing smoke of our ashen hopes disintegrating ceaselessly into an abyss of forgotten flames. The light is lost and the torch rendered useless. There is nothing left of you for me to hold.

I Found You

There was a security in your presence, and the mistake was mine to place my future in your hands. It was mapped out along your veins and unraveling delicately at your fingertips. Now uncertainty hangs in the air like the infinite sky carrying the possibility of everything and nothing over my head. It occupies the spaces where my footprints have yet to venture. I had hoped to find a replacement within those empty spaces. I searched for recognizable comfort in their eyes or truth in their smile; a reflection from the mirror my memory held up to them. What was reflected back to me were abstractions that looked nothing like you.  

But I did find you.

Those strange abstractions I could not recognize strongly contrasted everything I remembered about you. I found you in their vacuous smile, the way it never quite followed through. The color drained from their eyes until it was but a blank stare. I could no longer find comfort in that familiar security. When it was over I was left with the empty feeling of abandonment. Your emaciated ghost still haunts me in the corners occupied by your replacements. When they don't quite smile like you, or look at me the way you used to I find you staring back at me, my future still being cradled lightly between your fingers.

I trust your beauty. I do not wish to make changes to you but instead watch in awe as you unfold before me. The beautiful gestalt of your existence overrules any perceived imperfection. The perfection of your beauty lies within the essence of you being free to unfold without the restraint of judgement. One does not look to the horizon and insult the uneven amount of clouds along the sunset. I would never point out a superfluous trait when, in the serendipity of the universe, I was granted the delicate fortune to see you.

On Ignorance

There was once a light of curiosity which shined from behind your gaze exploring every facet of my heart and seeking out new sources of my affection which went deeper than where you've already been. However, that light has dimmed as you've found barrier after barrier in your way. The wanderlust which was once the impetus for your exploration has started to melt away. The deteriorating force of doubt and deprivation is the nexus which has replaced the fulfilling promise of hope and love. I admit I had hoped to halt your journey at this point. I do not wish for you to go further because I want to retain pieces of myself for fear of your awakening. There is this omniscient fear which looms over the vast expanses of my soul: you're only here because you're ignorant to your own worth. You should be delving into caves of gold not hiking along dirt trails. There is a hope which builds within you and I fear I am not enough to meet your expectations. You deserve to find the treasures which can match the ones that make up who you are. When you finally realize you deserve better I want to at least look at the unexplored caves you haven't touched and have the dignity to say "I wasn't that foolish". I don't halt your journey because I don't love you. Words are like the unyielding tracks along a map; they lead nowhere. I cannot string enough meanings along a sentence to describe what I feel. But if I had to say something,

No one on this earth has ever wanted anything as much as I want you.

You know, you can't hold onto me forever. As ideal as a sunset, it is not infinite. The light will bleed over the skyline and disappear behind its horizon.

United we will be pushed along the shores of life by the currents of time. The abrasive edges of each argument and each disagreement will contour my shape until I feel different in your arms. We will cling tighter to each other in a last ditch attempt to desperately ignore the jagged edges poking out from beneath, itching along under our skin.

But

one of us will let go and allow the sea to swallow the strange remnants of what we once were.

You define my reasons

"I do, I do, I do. I love you."

"Why though?"

I ran my finger along every crevice of my mind in order to find one speck of reason why in order to satisfy you. Your curiosity traveled through that adorable eagerness in your eyes which themselves began to scavenge my expression for a response. The pause surprised the both of us, dear. However, I noticed the silence change the curves of your brows as they traveled to the edge and knit together. The worry and ensuing fear started to build upon my incompetence as I searched desperately for a reason.

I recalled every memory and paid immense attention to every intricate detail. There was not one millimeter of you which my mind did not take note of. Without finding my answer there I listened closely to every word and the musical tone in your voice which carried them. Still they could not whisper to me the reason why. In a tactile manner I tried to recall the warmth I was immersed in when you held me and the subsequent chill which filled the walls of my arms when you pulled away. Still I could not quite grab onto any logical explanation.

And then I found it. Not the reason for that is something elusive. But there it is. The sublime essence of love. It is not something which can be further defined by the senses regardless of its combination. There is nothing within or without love which can be properly inscribed. It stands alone as an omnipotent figure which bonds two individuals into one symbiotic existence.

But if you require such explanations it's because I can run the distance from the highest edge on your head to the lowest point of your toes and map out every intricacy in between. You are a journey I continue to travel because it would frighten me too much to stop and be left isolated. There is no reasoning behind each step I take with you. The reason is within the steps that have become paired with mine - it's you.

To followers old and new

Over the past few days I've noticed some trickle in and some out. There are those who remain loyal and those who continue to get to know me through my writing. To those who are loyal, thank you for staying by me. I know I've neglected this account for some time due to the lack of a sufficient amount of hours in the day.That is no excuse because I still do find time to write on a daily basis, but lately it's been taxing to find a minute to translate it from inked page to typed words. I am grateful for your loyalty, truly.

To new followers, I have no idea how a group of you have just stepped in unexpectedly but please do introduce yourself. However I do present a warning. If you have an insatiable need for words I am not a reliable source. I provide prose in an erratic manner. I would completely understand if that presents me as an unreliable narrator of sorts. You have every right to leave. But if you stay, just know it would mean quite a bit to know that you specifically are a part of an audience I am immensely grateful for.

This is just a thank you to all who are here. For bearing with me as I go through the disorganization of life. I will update soon, I promise.

Just Once

Life is beautiful because it only happens once. the time will come when you look over at the horizon and smile warmly at the setting sun. It becomes a testament to an irreplaceable happenstance which is so distinct unto itself, with almost a pretentious sagacity that it will never again recur in the future. That day was beautiful because it occurred once in a lifetime. Same with life. When the time comes for our own sun to set the beauty emerges from the dimming light as you realize you at least basked in the glow of the sun while it still shone in the sky. There were irreplaceable days which will never be forgotten. the memories are treasured as capsules of day never to be repeated. the beauty lies within that fact. life is beautiful because it happens once.

The silence hangs heavily in the air, and just like your scent it has an overbearing presence which haunts me long after you've gone. The omnipresence of this silence becomes all consuming until I am sufficiently drenched in solitude. The atmosphere is devoid of what once was a content living. Spatters of discomfort paint portraits of images I do not wish to face at the moment yet the hands continue to move revealing that the time for retrospection is nigh. However, as those choose to reminisce I am forced to reconcile

myself with the phantasms I have yet to tame. Only then can I concede with the silence in the air that hangs heavy with your scent long after you have gone.

Teitur - One and Only

It's human nature to hide the dirtiest , most filthiest aspects of your soul. They are trapped behind the enamel bars of that fragile cage. Few and far between are the purely beautiful birds which escape through that barrier. They sing their sweet yet slight song that can only travel so far before it's forgotten. Yet we continue to follow those notes and hope they portray how beautiful we are. There is a fear of allowing the world to become witness to a darkness which cannot explain; it's who we are. We are cemeteries of secrets buried deep under the surface of our souls. However you stumbled onto the grounds and fearlessly roamed through the rows of monsters awaiting you. The skeletons arise and carry my shame in their marrow as they portray who I am to you. Yet you continue to roam and acquaint yourself with the darkest interior of who I am.

With you I become a well rounded person. You allow me to complete the portrait even with the darkest of hues. You accept the textured edges along with the vacuous spaces which are yet to be filled. I don't think you understand how beautiful that makes me feel.

There's a perpetual state of sadness I reach which is so far past any atmospheric pull that I'm barely reachable by those who care to notice how far I've gone. When once I used to be pulled down by the gravitational pull of love's magnanimity I have been launched into an orbit of dark matter. I know not how to function in any other matter but the one filled with a void. There is no reaching me now.

Over analyzing is the scab-picking of the mental healing process. Maybe the rough exterior irritates the otherwise smooth surface of a memory. Perhaps that one slight touch of uneven texture causes an insurmountable need to smooth the edges - so you pick. At every word, every glance, and everything in between until every answer is now questioned and every reason rendered illogical. A morbid curiosity about the most painful areas of your psyche becomes a masochistic film being replayed for your own pleasure. The search for an answer yields to an insatiable need to test one's own strength against the regret of their past faults. Finally, when you've been somewhat satiated you are left with the vision of your handy work - an open wound bound to scar and be an unsolicited reminder of just how much you are accountable for your own suffering. 

Your actions define the words that come out of your mouth. Without them your dictionary becomes a thesaurus of similar words you can use but in the end they'll still be undefined.

Familiarity shrinks the world by defeating the mysterious and bringing to light every fear draped under the cloak of the unknown. Where once I used to crawl over untrodden land I have now become accustomed to my worn in footprints. They mark the places I have been, the areas I no longer fear for I am now comfortable among their confines. Even the slightest bit of unease would deter me from returning and recognizing my own familiar marking. But here I am, situated within my skin and finally claiming it as my own. The fear is eradicated, the shadows of the unknown finally lifted. Yes it is still a large vessel suited for a lifetime to be filled with journeys to corners, limbs, and ventricles. I do not contradict myself. I always foster the idea of today - the lack of belief in a promised tomorrow. So if the day's end is when my days end I shall leave this earth with an empty, untraversed expanse of land I have just begun to see. Maybe there will come a time when all territory within the borders of this skin will be mine to claim. As for now the familiarity is still within the tiny comfort zones of what I want to know of this foreign land.

The Chase

Her lines and curves appeal to an image you've perfected. They go along with the carefully cultivated personality which is so perfectly compatible with yours. Every one of her steps are followed closely with yours and yet you can never really seem to get a grip on her. She constantly escapes you yet you still reach for her. Yet, you're never deterred as your smile widens when she eludes you. All her evasion does is increase your adrenaline, causing you to run faster.

However, this girl will always be faster. She will always escape you because she escapes the realms of reality. You've crafted your own ideal woman and have chased through the distances of your imagination, constantly laying down new foundation for an ever increasing pedestal where her image rests. The worse part is that you've attached her shadow to me, because you need some physical representation to convince yourself you are not deluded. I feel the only way for you to understand the extent of your delusion would be to accede to your requests and show you just how imperfect I am in comparison to the girl you imagine I am. Your 'love' for me is clouded with your imagination which fuels a chase with no actual target.

The faintest of whispers creep through the timeless ground which once enclosed it so tight. Traveling through the perils of retrospect I can't help but wind up on the grounds where such memories lie. My fingers itch as they outline the key to a wrought iron gate sealing me from an indelible past I wish to forget.

These whispers become harsh murmurs and fight against the dirt trying n vain to keep it sealed. However, I cannot escape. Those words are picked up immediately and become visceral as they swim through my veins and poison me with that internal toxin of regret. I had thought these skeletons would find peace in the graveyard after being disregarded into the darkest corners of my closes. Instead their calls become more dense and sharp as they fight for my attention. They fight to be remembered. I beg to forget. I adorned their resting place with tombstones and gave well meaning goodbyes. I speak in eulogies at the thought of their essence remembering nothing but the best. I continually expand my vocabulary in hopes that I can find the words to quell these voices. The stages of grief have reached an intermission and I'm stuck in that 3rd stage of bargaining. Maybe I choose to stay behind the curtain in order to avoid the audience of the next production - depression. However, the calls from the maw of tarnished memories are pushing me to face the predetermined script of this torrid production. These voices refuse to die. They will not rest until I face the rotting corpse of my mistakes.

I feel there was a disconnect somewhere early in my development. Somehow the essence of who I am did not inject itself into the shell born into the world. Those around me are visceral characters, their souls flowing freely through their veins, their thoughts somehow in sync with not only themselves but those around them. I feel as though I was born into darkness, clinging desperately onto this body, hoping to find some sort of harmony between the two. However I feel so fleeting, as though I will never fully embody the person I was supposed to be. My heart pumps blood yet the beat lies somewhere in the dark. My brain shoots neurons yet the thoughts lie somewhere within the depths of a one dimensional dusk. I am simply the shadow following an empty shell.

No More Chances

I flung my words at you and watched as they penetrated through your chest and bled out onto your face. I started to read your expression as the knot between your brow, the curve of your teardrop, and the lines of your frowning lips became evocative of the emanating hurt. This was the penultimate chapter to our story. The last chapter depicted the unraveling of our story as different plot lines. No longer did what we do have an effect on the other. When once you were a causality in many events you were now just an exigent factor on my emotions. It was not fault of your own. You did nothing. I know this now. I know this through the painful journey of retrospect. Now that I have traced back through each page I was able to unearth the prologue neither of us had known of which brought us together in this epoch. I do not believe in predetermined lives/fate/destiny nor do I believe in total random happenstance. There is an order in this all too fragile universe which resulted from us being born into and living within an interconnected web which ultimately had one of our strings forever tethered to another. In the infinite amount of possibilities which could have occurred prior to us intertwining into each others lives we somehow tripped lightly through these narrow passages to create a timeless story. This domino effect was so delicate that I fear I may never get another chance to experience this. I took you for granted, splashed you with meaningless yet spiteful words and disregarded your importance in my life. Because of this I no longer even want another chance - just the ability to go back to page one. However, the arrow of time points forward and I must follow my northern star into the direction these webs are directed. Away from you or not I have no idea, but I do hope there is a sequel and I will find you mingling somewhere between the words of my future chapters.

Unhinge that skeletal armor and reveal to me the most precious of stones. That hardened gem still beating it's melancholic melody. No matter how callous that gem is it is not unyielding for beneath there is a trickle of life allowing you to feel. Please allow me to trace along the angel veins of each artery and journey back to the source of this cacophony of a beat. I know it's painful. I do not want you to slit yourself open and create a new wound. I would like to know the source of the old. I hope for the opportunity to see inside as you bleed out every affectation which poisons you. Please, bleed out the truth and tell me everything. 

Waiting

When waiting many lament the slow pace of time. That second hand seems to drag on for hours as it crawls from one tick to the next. This time however it feels as though time has stopped. All matters of action have been suspended as I wait for -

That's just it. My life has involuntarily stalled for no defining reason. However, I'm anxious. Anxious for a new event to drag down that second hand and start time again. But how does one wait for an undetermined amount of time? How are you to just sit with anxiety bricking upon itself? I fear there is no end to this purgatory. Those which define the passage of time and space are nothing more than elusive films playing out somewhere beyond my reality. I yearn to be a part of the script yet instead I float haphazardly along the edges - waiting. This is not a timer with a predetermined stop. It is simply a clock measuring the infinite expanse of space expanding into a ceaseless void of nothing.

(I Like) The Way You Love Me - Michael Jackson

Been blasting this all day.