Confused, Drugged ramblings

SATYRE
SATYRE
Jul 10, 2017 · 2 min read

While I sit and devour these pills meant to numb my emotions, a new rush of emotions flood my mind. While I lay under the night sky exhaling this smoke meant to make me feel better, the flexing of these emotions has me feeling sore. On top of all of the darkness I’m struggling to deal with, I also have to deal with the potential light of you and sometimes I confuse the two. My fear of hurting you mixes with my fear of losing you. My loss of trust in you interferes with my trust that you’ll make everything okay. Because I can see the darkness that emerges as soon as the sun sets. You were my sun and I was icarus. Although I was warned, my desire for your warmth overpowered everything. And I flew too close. You melted my wings and I sank deep into the waters below, just after trying to navigate the labyrinth. And now I’m trying to learn to appreciate your warmth the same way I did before. The problem with that is that although the freezing waters were drowning me, they numbed the pain from the fall and the melting of my wings.I try flying closer, but my damaged wings never let me get close enough to where I need to be. You want me to gravitate closer and closer to you slowly, but I feel like that is impossible for me now. Because as I gravitate towards you, I recall how dangerous you could be. It corrupts innocent thoughts of you and makes me fear the future. Makes me jealous. Angry. Worried. Other countless emotions. But I also realize that you never meant to hurt me, because how could you know my wings were made of wax? You were just trying to navigate your own warmth, and I was just collateral damage. What I need is not to gravitate slowly to you, but to be suddenly and completely submerged into your warmth. Because a lot can happen in my orbits around you. I need your warmth to mold me into a better me, reform my wings into a more efficient design. But that can’t happen if I fear the warmth. It can’t happen if I’m so uncertain with myself. Because what if what I really need is the cool embrace of a river to ease my wounds and quench my thirst? What if I need the constant support of the earth to give me a better grounds to fight my demons on? What if I just need the rush of air in my face to remind myself why I was flying in the first place? What if. I can’t navigate these thoughts, so how can I expect to navigate the way to whatever I need. If I can’t even motivate myself to fly, how can I expect to get to a better spot? Experiencing what it’s like to be human has me drained, and I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore

Sketchbookoftheblindman

something between a suicide note and a hope for the future

    Written by

    SATYRE

    trying to turn my mind into art, caught in the midst of it's demolition

    something between a suicide note and a hope for the future

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