imagination dead imagine

I’m so tired of being here,
Suppressed by all my childish fears.
And if you have to leave,
I wish that you would just leave.
Because your presence still lingers here,
And it wont leave me alone…

These wounds won’t seem to heal,
This pain is just too real.
There’s just too much that time cannot erase…

When you’d cried i’d, wipe away all of your tears,
When you’d scream i’d, fight away all of your fears.
And i’ve held your hand through all of these years,
But you still have all of me.

You used to captivate me,
By your resonating light.
Now i’m bound by the life you left behind.
Your face it haunts, my once pleasant dreams.
Your voice it chased away, all the sanity in me.
These wounds wont seem to heal…
This pain is just too real,
There’s just too much that time cannot erase.

When you’d cried i’d, wipe away all of your tears,
When you’d scream i’d, fight away all of your fears.
And i’ve held your hand through all of these years,
But you still have all of me.

I’ve tried so hard to tell myself that you’re gone,
But though you’re still with me…
I’ve been alone all along.

When you’d cried i’d, wipe away all of your tears,
When you’d scream i’d, fight away all of your fears.
And i’ve held your hand through all of these years,
But you still have all of me.

It’s useless. Trying to forget. How does one erase a lifetime of pain? How does on dull it. Time? Time is such an enemy. Fear. Of getting hurt. Again. And yet again. And with each new hurt, he comes back. The ghosts of my past wont leave that easily. Who am I kidding? It’s not for me. Never was. Never has been. All that I have craved for is only that which I am never going to get.

Why do I need love? Because I want to know how it feels. Because I’m tired of counting stars in the eyes of those who have it. Because I thought I had it, and realized that I haven’t yet seen the tip of the iceberg.

The wrong people, she tells me. All the wrong people in the world are all the people I love. Diaphanous pain. Silken. Like a shroud. Pain. Pain all the way. Covering me from head to toe. The stabs in my back. Knives still hanging. Wounds freshened with time. Scars that are there for all to see, but only mine to endure.

Shadows betraying. A teenage romance that never was. A child carrying the dead weight of her own corpse. Throwing pebbles in water. Trying to turn back time. Trying hard to love again. Failing miserably and retreating into the dark alleys of her dead soul once again. The cacophony. Abrogating all that is ‘normal’. Pointing out the live from the dead. Who is to blame? Maybe no one. Maybe everyone. Maybe me.

Maybe You.

- Neha

Tags: pandemonium, cacophony, goth, heartburn, atheism

This entry was posted by Neha on Saturday, March 11th, 2006 at 11:33 pm. It is filed under Neha Jhingon, Thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.