I am not a writer, but sometimes I write.
“Battle of The Century”
“Deep into the darkest hour of the night. This time seems to have become a friend of mine. An unwanted, uninvited friend. I do not welcome you with open arms. It creeps up without warning, without so much as a tap on the shoulder to introduce its arrival. How did I end up back in this sinister place? It’s dark and all of time stands still here. Clocks with broken hands. Kids with broken hearts. Birds with broken wings. We are all the same. A place for all those who are lost beyond themselves
We need to be heard. To be understood by those we allow into our comfort zone. To surround ourselves with those of no judgmental qualities. We must not concern ourselves with those who posses hate and malice. These are the people that will only drag us down further into the darkness.
Everything is so twisted, bent, damaged. We are not at fault here. We are simply haunted by the things and the people that bind us to this place. Do you see me? Or do you prefer to ignore your mistakes? I can’t apologize for a battle that I was never prepared for. The heart verses the mind. Chaos and confusion. Love, lust, and passion will stand up against the knowledge of lessons learned through experience.
I watch as my fragile heart stands on the front line of this barren war zone. Unprotected and vulnerable, but gigantic in stature, and brave. It stands to face the strong-willed mind, which will refuse to back down. Inevitably there can be no real victor for they will have to find peace in order to ever coexist as one whole unit. This is a wasteland and we have all become prisoners here at some point in our lives.
I sit back with angst and sorrow as I watch my inner self be tormented by this crusade. I can’t help but to cry and mourn the loss of my innocence. The rest of them do not see this side of me. How could they know something that I won’t allow them to see? I don’t let them get that close to me. Don’t be afraid. I’ve told myself this more times than I could count.
Dawn is rising now. Opposing sides begin to march towards one another, and the charge begins. At the end of it all, I’m still here. This is me. I will not let this break me. I will always reach out for you. Will you extend your hand back out at me though? Don’t let me fall back into this dark place.”