Your Ruin I Withdraw

 

Oh my god, it’s you again, little princess I must say no.

I have finally escaped your grip, your lips don’t shackle my neck,

The mist I spread is no longer in me, I can finally breathe freely,

The lack of your voice is so calming – silence is what I desire most.

I hope my fingertips have faded from your skin, replace them with ink.

The tattoo therapy will heal you over time.

I refuse to reach the phone when your name shines on the display,

I don’t want to hear your desperation,

I have no urge to spend one more night with you.

I will break this cycle – your shadows cannot reach me, you are not the ghost haunting me.

I no longer grave your taste – once sweet now bitter – you are no longer the poison I beg for every day.

My thoughts have finally belonged to me, you are the dim silhouette I cannot recognize.

I am no longer the potter, the clay touching my hands drives me insane – so dirty, so rugged.

I prefer to be painter in the studio with the canvas empty, ready to be filled in colours of my liking.

Your voice - once melody on repeat when my ADHD kicks in – now just chaotic sounds lacking any meaning to me,

My resilience is built up, unshaken – I stand unmoved by your pleas,

I have successfully claimed myself for me.

…

Little princess, I won’t visit you one more night,

Your scent no longer enchants me, I am sharp and at last I am awake.

I love the control I have gained when your absent, my freedom means the world to me.

I love the discipline I enforced on me, I love to stay in my lane – my peace is my order.

I no longer follow foreign desires, I don’t need you pain to feel alive.

When your chaos met my calmness last time I have finally realized

My end is near every time I am with you.

Little princess, your spells and magic no longer tempt me to enter your bed.

The broken promises between us are no longer trap me in a chokehold,

The knots once tied hard are now threads undone by my bare hands.

You and I once disaster – now I refuse to participate in this annihilation.

My firm boundaries will now protect me, I will unlearn you day by day in a steady pace.

You and I – no longer lyrics I wish to whisper on my mouth

We are not art born from passion and pain.

The healed wounds will remain old scars I don’t want to reopen for you again.

We are not seen as outlaws – I have no claim over your destructive tendencies.

My body declines your offer, I no longer laugh in ache.

And with a small effort I erase those moments spent with you,

Little princess, I chose the peace of mind over your chaotic love.

Ultimately, the normality you hate is what I seek most.

The last time you pulled me closer I felt so alien to myself,

Now I finally can feel what I am made of.

Take your sweet tea, I refuse to drink this anymore.

I am no longer drink my coffee with milk, I prefer to taste the bitterness over tour fake sweetness.

You and I together – fragments of different worlds but apart I can feel the wholeness in my heart.

I hope the last wound to heal, scar to fade and this play to stay forgotten.

No more movies black-and-white, no more endless chaos – I chose to move forward;

No more push and pull – this game is no longer on sale – in the end I am me.

…

Little princes, I hope you eventually understand

I won’t reach for you in the morning, I love the emptiness in my bed.

I don’t need your kisses, I don’t fear the dullness of the grey.

No echo of your begging remains in my head – I won’t ask to meet you.

I vowed to quit you and managed to keep my promise,

Even my skin is silent when I say your name out loud.

No shivers run though my spine when I recall your soft whisper.

I am no longer hungry for your shame and pain.

It was never love, never meant to be – illusion of a cozy fire more like hellish flames.

I am no longer drawn to you, I walked away happy in the coldness.

I won’t burn above your body, your touch lost its control.

There is no countdown, the danger is long gone -

Finally, I am whole again!!!

The Ruin I Chase

 

I still feel you next to me, your breath like a suffocating hug dances around my neck.

Your presence lingers in the air of my room, so smothering,

Your fingertips still burn the skin even though you are just a light mist.

I still cannot resist the urge to call you, to have you one more night.

You are my demise - the curse which keeps coming when I think I am healed.

Your addictive taste leaves me weak for days, I am going so insane

I can’t keep my mind occupied with clear thoughts.

I love how you mold me underneath you like how a potter shapes the clay to vase.

I am lost in your lips as if I am swimming in the ocean, sinking deeper.

Your voice is like a siren song to me, my resistance is pointless,

I have given up on me.

…

Let me have you one more time,

Poisoned from your scent I lose all the instincts for survival.

I love how primal I am with you, free from all the rules I try to keep,

I don’t like to stay in those lines, obedient, follower of the order.

When my demon meets your the real magic begins,

Two souls condemned, spellcasting in the darkness of the night,

Songs so loud, screams of promised evil seen as sinful yet so fulfilling those basic needs.

The knots of broken promises between us tied so strongly, entwined in one.

You and I together – a recipe for disaster, so dangerously playing the forbidden games.

No healthy boundaries between us, every rule to keep me safe is so easily unlearned.

You and I – synchronically creating art of passion and hurt,

Wounds so deep, impossible to cure, repeated scars, marks of stolen happiness.

We are treated as criminals – bold and unhinged in every aspect,

Our bodies laugh at the damage we inflict when we are together,

We cannot erase those moments; we are extremely toxic – normality is not for us.

Every time you pull me closer I feel the need to feel small and weak,

Like how the sugar dissolves into the hot tea – the smallest particles of me remain unchanged.

I am the milk to your coffee – making the bitter flavor bearable on the tip of your tongue.

You and I – so damaged yet together so complete,

I hope these traumas never heal – this play never gets too old.

Like a movie black-and-white, we are so classic – textbook emotionally unstable,

Push and pull, anxious avoidant – yet we manage to exist.

…

I still try to touch you in the morning even though you never stay the night

Looking for the sweetness of your mouth, I need this quick fix to survive another grey day,

Like a distant echo I still hear my words to have you one more time.

I keep promising myself I can quit you, yet my skin screams for you.

My body still shivers every time I remember your whisper in my ears.

I keep wonder if this hunger will ever be satisfied or it is just the thrill of you and I never be right for each other.

I keep being drawn to you like a moth into the flame knowing very well that

If I keep playing with your fire, I will burn down into ashes every minute,

Countdown so unpredictable, impossible to keep on track - 

Never to be whole again.

 

An Ode for the Troubled

 

Raise your glass to the anxious one,

The one who battles their silence

Aching to participate in the conversations

But always keeping their words to themselves.

The one who dreads every change in the winds,

The one who never feels complete,

The one who struggles to express what bothers them,

The one ready to endure instead of facing the demons ahead.

Raise your glass to the people-pleaser,

The one who feels small every time they try to explain what is in their mind,

The one who is always scared to draw the line,

The one who always feels unloved if they don’t serve,

The one who is always drained from the people they love,

The one who is never valued for what they are.

Raise your glass to the second best,

The one who is always there when the main friend is somewhere else,

The replacement with the good advice,

The one always happy to help yet often left on read.

The one who cherish the wrong crowd,

The one who is deafen when they try to take control,

The one who is never included when the plan is made.

Raise your glass to the second-guesser,

The who always doubt what choice should they take,

The one who never knows what is to take control,

The one who troubles with a firm stand,

The one who fears the consequences,

The one who is fighting with themselves yet unable to win the match,

The one willing to watch from the side lines.

Raise your glass to the fatalist,

The one who made peace with what is about to come,

The one whose battles are always lost,

The one unwilling to take the blame for what when wrong.

The one who is secretly scared if they take the reins and wind by chance,

The one who never learnt accountability when not deciding what to do

Is actually a choice – the worst of them all.

Raise your class for the mind-racer,

The one who craves control yet unable to put his mind on a simple task.

The one whose coping mechanism is the unvoluntary switch of thoughts,

The one who never felt what stability means,

The one who survives on short-term ideas often left incomplete.

The one who is often overwhelmed yet lacks the tools to center their inner monologue.

The one who has never taught how to process their surroundings,

The one whose mental clutter rival the absence of the mind.

The one who always feel the world is always falling behind,

The restless one who craves to stop at last.

…

Raise your glass to the many troubled never mentioned in the lines above,

I might write about you in the future poems.

I want to tell you - you are not alone, always forgotten, left in the footer note.

I salute your endurance often unnoticed by the normal ones,

You are not undeserving – you are simply different, not hard to love.

You have hidden resilience; your brain is knitted with the darker yarns.

Be proud of who you are and if the life feels hard in the darkness of the night

Ask for help, don’t be shy.

Your efforts always lurk in the shadows - never spoken, never shared.

There is my second ode for the outlander of the nous,

I feel your pain; I sense your presence – you and I are so alike in many ways.