I don’t want your sympathy, I mean it never really takes the pain away.
Don’t tell me that “everything will be ok”, because it never will be and I bet it won’t even get better.
Don’t give me your hanky, I know for a fact that it won’t help stop the tears from falling out of the bags of my eyes.
I would have gladly accepted your hug, but now I really find it useless. I don’t think it will make my heart feel any lighter or even fill the big hole that was left in it.
My soul has soaked in pain so much that my whole being is-literally of pain.
So don’t you dare tell me ukuthi “ngikhala nawe”, man I’ve lived with this pain almost all my life and trust me when I say I can feel it by myself, so I don’t need your help.
My sins have decided to play “catch-up” and catch up with me, my demons are eating at my soul, karma has decided to make like a fly and be my guest -an uninvited guest…
…and all the skeletons in my closest have decided to come out and play.
I’m in pain and this pain is internal, it is within the soul and in a way spiritual.
I doubt I’ll ever escape it.
It was another “short-breathed” relationship,
Or should I say an asthmatic relationship?
A relationship that was never really tailored for much excitement and an excessive expression of emotional experiences really.
It was a boring relationship.
A relationship of perfectionism and planning.
“Routines and traditions” is what their activities were inspired by.
They became blinded by their mentals of may, might and maybe.
…and now their blindness had allowed them to fall victim to fear and allow their fear of something going wrong feast heavily on their hunger to explore and somehow ‘live a little’.
The lifespan of their chronic relationship was unknown. It was somewhat critical, I mean it could get attacked at anytime and die out.
Its tomorrow wasn’t promised, so was its next time, so their dreams only existed in the moment…
…and their hope was fuelled by a short vision of a future they didn’t even believe in.
Our relationship was naturally toxic and any form of spark would have been the death of us.
Don’t you dare tell me that you love me now, because I kind of feel like it doesn’t really matter now.
See…when I longed for your love it was nowhere to be found.
You chose to play a game of “hide and seek”. You hid your heart and made my poor soul seek it.
I’m tired of seeking your “faded out” love and I swear once I turn my back on the idea of ever finding it, the only way forward is teaching myself how to forget about ever being in love with you and learning how to fall in love with a deserving heart.
I’m sick and tired of the long scruffy journey I’ve walked in search of your hidden heart.
I’ve nursed myself way too much and I’m about to become iskhorokhoro.
With all the bruises I got from thorns of your cold heart,
Scars I got from dried out branches of your heartlessness,
Scratches I got from your “bob-draaded” selfishness,
…and wounds I got from stepping on pieces of your shattered-broken mirrored hate.
I’m done, ngiyas’thula les’gqoko. I will not allow you to do as you please with my feelings.
Game’s up, you better find your heart because my soul’s seeking days are over.
I wish i could look into your eyes and say that all is well, but i can’t because it’s not.
Every time I look at you my heart just gets too damn heavy and my eyes fill up with tears.
I wish I could allow you to hold me close and promise me that “everything will be ok” but I can’t…
…because the day you chose to walk out of the doors of trust I kept up for you, I chose to lose faith in you.
You’ve scarred my heart and it hurts so bad.
I’ve always wanted to be the best daughter ever. Trying so hard to correct the mistakes of those who came before me.
…but now I’ve failed. I decided to put my happiness first and in the process I’m about to bring sadness to people who once decided to take a leap of Faith and put their trust in me.
In their eyes I’m a daughter, an angel but to the truth and myself. I’m a monster and I believe I was created for nothing else but to self destruct.
I’ve reached my peak and I’m about to self destruct.
I’m about to chop myself into a million pieces just to remind myself what real pain feels like.
I’m about to shut down the entire system of my existence and call it “Operation Deuses”.