"I am a bad person Leila, My mind is a horrible place."
Here, belly down Watching one more tear roll down Your over-used cheek
What can I tell you Seeing you hurt so kills me That I assess every idea you tell me Against my own And choose what's best for you That I cannot tell you this
My perfection eats away at you Did I not ever feel like you do I try to explain to you that out of every hundred thoughts You may know two. That I did not teach you how to draw. Two minutes ago you said you did not remember.
My name, with resentment, spewed from your lips It's all I can do not to cry But itching my eye I feel mine tooIs moist.
That in your moments of emptiness All I would do is help you be whole again But I have no idol to introduce you to
You believe not that which I admit to you Or think I would mock you I would not
My heart, it bleeds, Less for the memories of my tortured head And more for yours now Though I will not agree with your confessions of insanity Or lack of a heart. I gave so much to you Where is it all now?
You sit, cross-legged Preaching to me But Mr. Hyde, has he gone? Mr Jekyll remains, or some cold, mean hearted version of him. You say you can't help it I have seen you at your worst. I cry for you but won't let you see it
Watch what I say? - How dare you try save me When you cannot save yourself?
I realise that more than you realise, have become like me Oh, you want to help You want to preach You cannot listen. Heaven forbid I am the same, To some superior being I tell you to wait, wait But I, at you age, I could not.
Scorn, pouring from your fingertips Issuing slaps, you push Me and everyone else away But I push my way back in If shouting got my message across If anything did This would be different Not this, again and again and again
"Clash. Do you believe that?" No, I don't. I don't believe that we aren't meant to get along. I do not know everything, You would or would not have me. It varies, it differs not.
I try, constantly, to see inside your head. I would understand, My own little case study, My tortured genius I envy you somewhat, My voices have died. My twenty years swallowed my inconsistency And I sit here stable, listening to your monotone. Your voice that drives me mad, Your words that I can't stand. I can't talk to you when you're like this.
"I don't know who I am" Did you really think someone would save you? I cannot, and I care most - is this true? Maybe there's something wrong with our head Maybe you're stupid But you throw old statements back and back again Let it go?
So. The other night you told me There are angels, in people. Angels, sent by God. Tonight you took back your words. I am more than just a good person. Though you say that is all.
The dark entrails of your mind, Strewn here on the floor Bare floorboards, where did you find them? Cold and black, they scare me I see why they scare you But I, I must feign courage For you who has none right now.
It exhausts me Wading through your laments Dispelling your mental problems Where you think I will not listen It is my duty to oppose. You think I think I am better I just want you to be happy And not empty.
Float, float on If you are not a angel What are you, that floats? I do not fear what you fear.
One thousand names for this condition. But seeing you snap Is something I hate experiencing Dealing with your two parallel worlds Tiptoeing around your black world and black sister What do I say to her, When she turns my heart stone.
Okay, let me write to you and tell you all it is that I want.
All that I want. be it selfish or not. For it to be here and manifest before my eyes, for me to see it and train my subconscious to bring this to me. Make my desires true. Because a stated dream is a dream half caught, isn’t it?
When you feel the lack, then you must know that you want what you seem to be lacking. If this is true I have found my wants, so clearly. In moments of despair they seem unachievable, far, far away, unrealistic. As though this lack could not be filled. And I know I have holes which I deem only to be fillable by certain objects, certain beings, certain places. I am filled with these holes, heaven forbid they should be fatal.
“and then suddenly it struck me how I had nowhere to be, noone to be with. I suddenly felt alone, irrationally (I see that now) but immensely, immediately, heart-achingly alone. I felt like crying (I did, a wee bit), I wanted to be surrounded by people, lots of people. Old people. new people, exciting people, people who I still had to get to know, anyone, everyone. Instead though, I had no one
..And I saw my future span out just the same. Me, bored with life, the long, lonely, empty days. For the rest of university, for the rest of work.. for the rest of ever, forever..”
People, faces, voices, thoughts, sights, the wind, the sky, the grass, the hills, they all make their holes.
Your face, your voice, your words.
“I know, its not even true now. But in that moment it's all I truly believed in.
I managed to shake it. but its still there, lurking.
I was just looking through the photos of my holiday and I realised I want to be in the mountains, on the farms, under the trees, in the hills, by the streams, running with the goats... you get my point. I realise I’m just like my grandad, a free spirit”
So some small idea of what it is, that and a lover to brave the cold wind with, watch the million stars with, climb the hills with. I want.