Companion

I don’t understand.

Why do we hurt those we love? Why do we watch those we love stare into oblivion - the same place you wish to exist.

The same place, sometimes I wish I existed in.

It’s like this planet is tornado after tsunami. Hurricane after the storm. 

Like King Triton, I must be risen by the mercy waters beneath me.

These tight, breathless, sighs will be the language I speak until I feel the closure that I need.

Why are some of us imploded with thoughts and others unable to feel at all. To love, to touch and of course to empathise.

Gazing out the windows of my new work, yet again surrounded by solar panels and salesman. What’s next? How can I remind myself that the reasons I hate myself, are the things that will make me strive throughout my successful career.

So many ideas, so many dead ends. Still, so many potentials.

I yearn not only for a love of any kind on this alien like world, but a trust. A bond. Something real and a support - a something I can lean on.

Like Christopher Robin, holding a red balloon. Leaning on a tree looking up on Pooh Bear. 

A companion. A blessing.

Someone that sees the things within myself that I forget to.

Breathe.

Okay, good.

Let that negative energy go. Pour it into your writing. The lyrics, the literature that you create.

Let that sadness, and anger and fear become a burning passion like no other. Let your spark pierce your pupils so everyone can see what you have made of yourself. 

Don’t stop. 

“Do you believe in love, Samara”. 

Well, I’d like to think so I responded. But then again, what examples do I have?

Other than the novels, movies and fantasies I have witnessed with my eyes and thoughts.

Mmm, a touch.

my favourite thing. 

it signifies so much. Feel so much.

Makes your insides feel.. full. A satisfaction so desirable. 

But I do love someone.

It’s like a ride in the bumper cars. The ones you pay $5 to ride in at small town carnivals.

So fun, but people keep throwing shots for out of bounds. Taking what I have built. 

But worst of all, one of my biggest struggles. Being claimed. Being wanted, you know? and he feel he can’t, or I feel he can’t. Or I feel I can’t.