Beautiful

Anything, anything would be better than this agony of mind, this creeping pain that gnaws and fumbles and caresses one and never hurts quite enough”- Jean-Paul Sartre

 

-Beautiful-

Perfectly broken.

Beautifully flawed.

Fucking hate me

hate the cracks where

solid is supposed to be.

I can’t go back,

I can’t go back

I can’t go

I can’t

I’ve lost what I meant

What’s not to be happy

I am

So if you love me,

let me crumble

let me go

I can’t go back

Let me go

it’s been broken all along

It’s too much

Too much

a muchness I do not deserve

Save yourself

the cracks are not waterproof,

they will eventually give.

Let me lie on the floor.

Leave me

Let go

I can’t go back

Make it go away

Let me go

I have to do this to you

I need you to know

I need you

To let me go

See that this is the best for you

Only for you

I can’t stay

for you

I can’t.

let me go

5 thoughts on “Beautiful

  1. There is a place where hatred dies. I’ve often been in the place where hatred thrives. It has blocked the sun on a summer’s day. It has stopped the rain’s noise on the roof. It has leveled an earth cracked from drought. It has made me nothing more than a lump of flesh. And it has appeared often and powerfully, as if to brood over me as a cloud without color; not black or grey.

    But there is a place where hatred dies. Now I look back to those days when it came to press upon me. Even there I remember that hatred was something. When I had nothing, I at least had hatred. But there is a place where even hatred dies. Then there is nothing. And the prospect of that agony is more than the brooding hatred.

    So I searched out for anything I could do while it brooded over me. Perhaps I could twirl a coin. But there is a place where even twirling cannot be done; this place where hatred dies. Many think they will be rid of hatred and find a place of peace. But in the finding of that peace, they will find that even hatred has died in that place. As it has been our only friend, now even it has died. And nothing is left for eternity.

    By His Grace.

  2. Pingback: Letters to a Dear Friend « Words From There.

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