unpolished

[squiggle 100305]

i'm a bitch.

maybe not always, but often enough. too often anyway.

the dryness of the heart parched and longing. the wetness of the eyes raw and bleeding. what point growing up if it only serves to tear someone else down? how do you know that you really are growing? why the hell does it matter if i remain less than i was meant to be, if that could allow someone life and freedom and happiness and real real love? who am i to be an obstacle to another's rightful joy and liberty? why grasp for temporal satisfication and completeness that might be an illusion that so easily shatters in...

silence?

why so much fulfillment in sacrifice? why the necessity of pain? the throbs of pain inflicted and borne, the stranger sharp stabs of afflicting pain upon another.

it is true that some things can be learnt only in relation to others. but sometimes i question if it really is worth learning these things at the expense of another's heart...if my learning to love and give is worth the streams of anguish that must bleed from a precious soul.

could i be
human
and frail
beneath beneath beneath

all these dreams
crafted
fall fall fall
apart and away asunder

selfishness
my choice
my bane
my curse

indifference
cloaks my pride

and i wish i could care

they say life isn't worth living without love. that pride is nothing in the face of eternity. would i really miss it...that abundance of life if i never come to know it?

[/excerpt]