turning and turning in the widening gyre
Mar. 12th, 2010 08:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yukieLOL weird cathartic Spoony Deathbishie Bard stream of consciousness crack.
We have a lot in common.
***
I don't belong anywhere, really, in the end.
I never have.
Some days I'm so certain that I could just disappear and be neither missed nor forgotten.
Near every sanctuary, every refuge I've ever had has been temporary, and I lose everything at the end of the day. Over and over and over.
Maybe it's destined. I don't know.
People say 'oh you're always so STRONG; we didn't think we HAD to help you!'
I appear strong because I keep persevering, and I persevere because I know cowards like these fools will not be there for me or help me, ever.
They are not my friends. They never were. I had no reason to believe in them.
I am not loved.
I never was.
I am an afterthought, at best.
And yet I cannot bring myself to throw away anything I was given. I can't make myself believe yet the halcyon days were all a lie. I don't want to believe it, even though I know that everything, overwhelmingly, points to that.
I know why people were so eager to believe I was a monstrous person out to delude them and take advantage: they were afraid of me.
Because I was always stronger.
If only because I had to be.
If only because I deal with this constant loss over and over again.
If only because I won't be heard if I call out.
If only because I am discarded the moment I become inconvenient, or no longer have something that someone wants to use.
Some days I BADLY want to just - cut and run. Live up to that stereotype about my profession, I suppose. Just spare myself this stupid, mindless, painful nonsense, this having to watch everything I ever had turn to dust at my feet because - why?
Because I am myself.
I am not loved.
I never was.
I cannot be.
By merit of my birth, my past, my nature, my soul - for all these reasons the eye of love is closed to me, ever. Always.
What I have is taken from me. Over and over again.
We are promised a new beginning with each rebirth - a clean slate.
Apparently this does not apply to those of us born in shadow, whose genesis was the dark.
I thought I was loved. I had a wish, once -
Everything I thought was true and eternal was a lie.
Everyone I have ever had, I have lost.
Everything I am is - what?
I should run. I should cast off this useless way of being and these beautiful, heartbreaking, poisonous lies once and for all.
Why do I cling to this so, knowing better?
Why do I reach out over and over for hands I know will never touch mine again?
I doubt I'll ever know.
I have nothing.
No one.
You didn't love me and you never have.
You call me a demon.
I have always been what was expected of me...
Perhaps it's time I began to live up to that name.
We have a lot in common.
***
I don't belong anywhere, really, in the end.
I never have.
Some days I'm so certain that I could just disappear and be neither missed nor forgotten.
Near every sanctuary, every refuge I've ever had has been temporary, and I lose everything at the end of the day. Over and over and over.
Maybe it's destined. I don't know.
People say 'oh you're always so STRONG; we didn't think we HAD to help you!'
I appear strong because I keep persevering, and I persevere because I know cowards like these fools will not be there for me or help me, ever.
They are not my friends. They never were. I had no reason to believe in them.
I am not loved.
I never was.
I am an afterthought, at best.
And yet I cannot bring myself to throw away anything I was given. I can't make myself believe yet the halcyon days were all a lie. I don't want to believe it, even though I know that everything, overwhelmingly, points to that.
I know why people were so eager to believe I was a monstrous person out to delude them and take advantage: they were afraid of me.
Because I was always stronger.
If only because I had to be.
If only because I deal with this constant loss over and over again.
If only because I won't be heard if I call out.
If only because I am discarded the moment I become inconvenient, or no longer have something that someone wants to use.
Some days I BADLY want to just - cut and run. Live up to that stereotype about my profession, I suppose. Just spare myself this stupid, mindless, painful nonsense, this having to watch everything I ever had turn to dust at my feet because - why?
Because I am myself.
I am not loved.
I never was.
I cannot be.
By merit of my birth, my past, my nature, my soul - for all these reasons the eye of love is closed to me, ever. Always.
What I have is taken from me. Over and over again.
We are promised a new beginning with each rebirth - a clean slate.
Apparently this does not apply to those of us born in shadow, whose genesis was the dark.
I thought I was loved. I had a wish, once -
Everything I thought was true and eternal was a lie.
Everyone I have ever had, I have lost.
Everything I am is - what?
I should run. I should cast off this useless way of being and these beautiful, heartbreaking, poisonous lies once and for all.
Why do I cling to this so, knowing better?
Why do I reach out over and over for hands I know will never touch mine again?
I doubt I'll ever know.
I have nothing.
No one.
You didn't love me and you never have.
You call me a demon.
I have always been what was expected of me...
Perhaps it's time I began to live up to that name.