deepundergroundpoetry.com
It takes two ropes to drag you out of hell
A flower is a beautiful thing.
And the sight of a storm seen from the outside is a peculiar mix of awe, fear and longing.
But neither of those things stopped me from looking into the darkness at the bottom of a bottle of pills and longing for whatever brand of eternal oblivion lay inside.
What gave me the strength to go through the motions was much simpler than any abstract thought of the wonders of life.
It was the thought of big boy handing me a bottle and a smoke, the look in his eyes saying he understood what had made a home in mine and that he understood. His hand on my shoulder weighed down with the importance of letting go.
It was the memory of Ellie holding me close, the feelings of her words gently brushing my hair as she reminded me that even though I'd played with her heart more times than I could remember, whenever I needed her she would hold me close. Through every other girl that broke my heart and every dark hole I fell into, she would always climb down with me, rock me to sleep and keep my demons at bay.
What stopped me was knowing she'd need me to remind her of her beauty and her worth the next time a guy like me came around and the thought of her finally finding one who deserved her.
When I bent down to drop a bunch of service station flowers on a freshly dug grave, it was those two pairs of hands that stopped me from wanting to fall in.
It was them who lightened the weight of pain from my memories.
And it was those two lights that pulled, tugged and guided me until I found the road back to living.
And the sight of a storm seen from the outside is a peculiar mix of awe, fear and longing.
But neither of those things stopped me from looking into the darkness at the bottom of a bottle of pills and longing for whatever brand of eternal oblivion lay inside.
What gave me the strength to go through the motions was much simpler than any abstract thought of the wonders of life.
It was the thought of big boy handing me a bottle and a smoke, the look in his eyes saying he understood what had made a home in mine and that he understood. His hand on my shoulder weighed down with the importance of letting go.
It was the memory of Ellie holding me close, the feelings of her words gently brushing my hair as she reminded me that even though I'd played with her heart more times than I could remember, whenever I needed her she would hold me close. Through every other girl that broke my heart and every dark hole I fell into, she would always climb down with me, rock me to sleep and keep my demons at bay.
What stopped me was knowing she'd need me to remind her of her beauty and her worth the next time a guy like me came around and the thought of her finally finding one who deserved her.
When I bent down to drop a bunch of service station flowers on a freshly dug grave, it was those two pairs of hands that stopped me from wanting to fall in.
It was them who lightened the weight of pain from my memories.
And it was those two lights that pulled, tugged and guided me until I found the road back to living.
Published 19th Jul 2013
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19th Jul 2013 11:35pm
There are so many wishes in this. Wishes to go back, to retry, to make new. Wishes on stars that no longer occupy the dark, leaving you without the little bit of peppered hope their presence promised you. And then there is so many understandings, identities of reasons and confrontations that demand you to pay attention. You’ve captured them, stringing them here in bold breaths that leave you aching for what you just expelled.
‘His hand on my shoulder weighed down with the importance of letting go.’
This falls like an explanative. A relinquish of breath in a defeated gasp that crumples your chest and pinches your shoulders. Because it’s so much more than an idea. Its physical. Letting go one of the heaviest burden one can bear.
‘His hand on my shoulder weighed down with the importance of letting go.’
This falls like an explanative. A relinquish of breath in a defeated gasp that crumples your chest and pinches your shoulders. Because it’s so much more than an idea. Its physical. Letting go one of the heaviest burden one can bear.
20th Jul 2013 6:00pm
