I etch a fantasy life inside of my thoughts and I try to live inside of that world day by day. Maybe, possibly, it is somewhere on the outskirts of anything to have ever existed. Maybe, if I skip three times hopscotch style into a forest of tall trees, I will find myself inside of the next dimension. I inhale deeply and close my eyes. I wonder, who is beside me in the daydreams I create, for in my lonesome there is only darkness. Darkness my friend, when shall I be set free from your deeply rooted grasp upon my throat? When will I see vivid colors dancing in the blackest night; rather than the spirits who yearn to shake me with fright? It is something I cannot seam to cease or control. In this beautiful brain the rose branches are intertwined with flowers rich hues and thorns that laugh at the bloody mess they have created. Nature has a way of being so cruel and mysterious. I am afraid of the darkness because I do not know who will be the next to try and pull me further from the truth. Sounds help me safety pin my skin and bones together on this earth plane after I get too far away from reality. Why have I been gone for so long? There is something deeply difficult about being human, when I know I am so much more than this temporary, decaying form. I have made the mistake of escapism. They found me, embraced me, and left me covered in black and blue. Who are the entities that tainted me with black magic on their tongues? They stare deep into my soul, fingernails playing my heart strings, only here with the intent of finding my weakest bones that they can snap at any moment. Who finds pleasure in creating an ill paradigm of perception? Such cruelty is very hard to grasp, and it seems to taunt me with cloudy visions. Maybe it is only my perception of myself that has caused me to spiral downwards. It seems to be with every chance they are whispering in my ear; meanwhile I am losing sleep, losing life. Why must they simultaneously cause me to rip out my hair, and direct me towards lessons of safety? Is it anyone but myself causing this illusion? I spent too much time dancing in black smoke and awoke in a demonic nightmare.
Blue dreams into mystical sadness. How the terrors of the night had overcome all recollection of my light. Drips of blood and silver tears stream out silent screams. My body is a worthless punching bag and I want to claw out every last remnant of filth inside of my twisted mind. Filling my precious lungs with cementing tar, I’ve lost all control. A flower once so lovely, venom now crawling up through my veins, ravaging every last morsel of the simplicity I yearn to exist in. Poison and illness travel through my decaying corpse as I am buried deep into the ground. An angel kisses my cold lips and I open my eyes. Has it been days or weeks that I have been on the other side? The crystalline heartbeat of my guardian angel held onto my remnants and kept me alive. Nostalgia blurs my vision as I’m admitted into the hospital for the third time of the year. Stale air, messy hair, scheduled therapeutic activities, long halls to pace, interesting to observe others. Where have I disappeared to? Safe at home my bare feet are caressed by blades of grass and wet mud. The sky is clear, the air is crisp, and I am finally alone. My life feels like a lightning storm.
Hold me with passion and I will be your butterfly winged lover. How I wish love could be effortless, but elusive it is so. I need to be free to find the pieces of myself hidden within another, to find the details of my soul carved in another’s bones. I crave her luminescence but I yearn to be delicate and cherished by him. My bleeding heart finds comfort in the complexity of a simple embrace. Our bodies are canvas and I want to make art. The numbing effect of my medications have shattered the hanging mirror of my emotions and daydreams. I have nothing left to reflect upon. My eyes are lifeless and I feel like I am underwater trying to breathe, running in slow motion. Blank stare girl has returned and I find this side of me to be soothing in its familiarity. A broken porcelain doll sitting on the shelf, mangled and distressed. Her eye sockets leaky with blood, bruises and gashes along her limbs. Long doll hair tied with a bow, silky lace dress, as above, so below. Head in a bloody bathtub with flowers, white candles, and glitter. I fall into a beautifully horrific dream of disentanglement. I stopped wishing I was vibrant and carefree. Pleasure is an open book but I am too absent to look at its golden pages. A white feather falls at my feet and I am patiently waiting. Adrenaline fills my heart as I realize I am about to meet something so frighteningly familiar, yet vastly unknown. I must remember not to stray from myself and become a shadow. I become ever so absent in the presence of those I adore. In fear of losing them, I push myself far away. In hopes of someone that will stay near me, I will leave a stain this time. All of my fears and ruins will be an open book, my sea of tears will be swam in. I need to be adored for the mess I have created, and not for a polished version of who I am not.
She is my invisible best friend and my worst enemy. I love her so, I love her so, she tortures me, and I hold her dearly. If I leave her for too long she starts to miss me, and it’s okay because I miss her terribly. I walk along with a head of fog, my breath steams up the mirror. Bugs crawl up my legs and out of the wound in my knee. I try to blame diamond eyes for denying me of clear vision. I stand up and a dizzy spell takes over. To care about self image is to die a slow and painfully ridiculed death. It is constant mockery of oneself in hopes to find peace. It is frightening how badly I need to crawl out of my skin. Spirits around me mock my mistakes. I chose to repeat the endless cycle regardless of the harassment I will face.
I’m already dead while there are voices in my head. Humanity is a mirror and we are supposed to see ourselves inside another, but I can’t see the beauty in myself that I find in everyone else. The mirror is shattered when I look inside, sharp silver debris are crawling under my skin. I have to look away, I have to hide myself until I can find the way the truth is ringing in my ears without leaving me bleeding on the floor. I’m closing the door and losing all perception. What I saw doesn’t matter, what I heard doesn’t matter. As my heart bursts open, the disposition of my mind is a blank page once again.
released March 29, 2015
written/produced/recorded/vocals: nature flight
all rights reserved