The Awakening

I was called ton of names with intention to destroy me
But I put them carefully in my make-up box and wardrobe.
In front of my mirror I started getting ready.
I unintentionally used two unapologetic execrations as dark shades on my eyes,
On my lips I put the blood-red betrayals,
All the insults are my blush,
I braided my hair with all the false promises once given,
My neckless is made of blames put on me.
I took the dress made of untold truths
And I took my gloves made of lies.
I took my jacket made from numerous deceptions,
My boots are other’s expectations of who am I supposed to be.

I am ready, it is time for me to go..

....
The path I took is made of pain,
I shed some tears for safe travels….
And only the mirror in my room witnessed
The real me, my naked soul,
Tired of all these shams…

Not finished but beautiful

 

Ughm, well, I have something to share with you but still not the proper words. However, I will no longer stay quiet and I will begin my story.

    So it was winter again, the sky was gray and unfriendly as if it was going to fall over your head. It made me feel smaller and useless. And there was no other option to change my mood with some cheerful smile. The sky was so close to me that I felt repressed by the Mother Nature. This was her way to punish us for being selfish and not grateful for what we have already had. Then I looked through the window and what did I see? The trees!  And I saw their sad and at the same time ugly silhouettes all over the town, as if they wanted to be part of a battlefield but they have been lost during the time and space; as if they were blind and could not find the path leading to this field, and realizing that they were lost they have decided to stop somewhere and to remain there – naked and angry because no soul wanted to lead them. And they met too many souls and asked them for help – some of them were corrupted from the way of life - they wanted something in exchange of their help; others were too tired and wanted a break every 30 minutes; and the worse of them the ignorant ones – those pity souls did not care about anything and anyone, they did not even give a damn for themselves. What could you expect from them? Nothing!  So the trees froze in time and took their new shapes; the shapes which they discovered during that disappointing travelling.

But even sadder was the story of the winter wind. Once the winter wind had a lover – the warmest breeze of the world. She was so hot that she could fly with a man on her shoulders for months; she could warm even the coldest heart up only with one touch. And the winter wind was happy; his breath was softer and his music was delight.  They traveled through the world together and playing with the land and the sea. One day the summer saw the breeze and wanted her for him. He envied the winter wind because he was no longer cruel and harsh to the earth. One day the summer caught the breeze in a moment of weakness and made her promise that she will help him. She agreed and he told her that they should go to the most distant place in the world. She wanted to say goodbye to her lover but the summer refused her. She only left a short melody saying that she would come back once she is done helping summer. Unfortunately, the summer had no plans to leave her and still she is with him, warming every part of the world. But she became cruel, too. When she is asking to leave the summer and he still says no, she becomes so hot that people are dying, fires burn the earth, lakes become deserts. This is her small revenge for being lied and kept enslaved. 

As for the winter wind, he found this short melody and stood alone, he felt rejected. Since then, his breath is sharper, even colder and stronger. He no longer has mercy to these pity souls. Sometimes he gets so cold that he even kills. And yet, he cannot forgive summer and breeze for their betrayal. He is still playing the melody again but this time it is impossible to understand what he is introducing to my ears. It is a bit painful to recognize his emotions. There isn't any snow and it would not be snowy anytime  soon. But it is cold, so cold that you can’t stay out for more than five to ten minutes.

And this is how all the sadness around me reshaped my view of the landscape...

To be continued... Maybe...

I am...

 

I am going to be the curse your sinner lips desperately whispered.

The curse is going to be your lifelong sentence.

....

I am going to be the shiver slowly weakening you during your lonely nights.

I am going to be to sweetest voice in your head,

I am going to be the irrepressible desire in your heart.

I am going to be yours once you give up on me,

I am going to be someone else’s when you want me badly.

I am going to be the dream when you are awake,

I am going to be the sunlight when you want to sleep.

I am going to be so distant when I am with you.

I am going to be the pain from your self-inflicted wounds.

I am going to be the heat when your nights are as cold as winter,

I am going to be the frostiness during your days as hot as summer.

I am going to be the romantic poem kept in secret,

I am going to be the obstacle preventing you from realizing your dreams.

I am going to be present when you are not around.

I am going to run away every time you attempt to get me closer.

I am going to be the truth hidden in your lies.

I am going to be the raging fear when you think your life is fine,

I am going to be your happy place when your life is torn apart.

I am going to be the nightmare torturing you every day and night.

Cruel Nature

 

I want to taste these poisonous lips just one more time,

I want to remember how does it feel like…

To feel the poison running through my veins,

Making me stop breathing,

Causing my heart to skip beats…

I want to feel weak for one last time,

As if this will be my last night.

Let me feel the dizziness again,

Let me lose my consciousness.

Let me bite these lips and then the kiss,

The kiss which makes me burn from inside out.

Watch how my inner fire consumes me,

I want you to see me at my weakest.

…

Consumed by toxic memories, I am still here in the dark,

I like to feel the pain, how tortured my soul is…

I love to beat myself down just for this venomous kiss,

The misery and self-loath is what makes me feel alive.

…

Kiss me one last time, break me again,

Let me drag myself into the never-ending agony,

I love torture, you can easily tell.

I am my worst enemy…

…

Kiss me and then run away,

Leave me restless, this is how I like it.

Torment is my middle name,

Don’t blame yourself, this is what I wish for…

….

Thank you for the kiss, now leave me be…

Troubled by my own addiction to the endless pain…

This is who I am – a broken soul, cruel by nature to her well-being.

I am not ashamed, just disappointed

Because this cycle has no end, 

I am just that powerless...

 

Then Same Questions

 

I hate going down this road of pain when I try to be strong again. Sometimes I feel I am beyond repair as if I am an old phone. I hate pretending to be cheerful when the darkness still occupies my whole being. I just hate it. I feel powerless, as if I am a failure again.

I thought I was getting better and I can finally get what I want but no… for the past few weeks, I feel so down again. I just want to disappear.

Thank god I am good at acting cool, chill, always wearing my happy face and my carefree personality when in fact, I just want to get over with this torture called life. I thought I have finally achieved my goal to get rid of all my emotions, just to be back to my old self. And yet, here am I on this path again. I just had enough… Why I can’t perform a hard rest and go back to my “factory” settings? Why should I feel everything I do right now? Why I cannot stop beating myself down? Why I keep playing all these old records over and over again? Do I really love myself or love torturing myself? Why the same questions are keep coming back, keep bothering me, keep eating me alive???

Do I need try to break this cycle one last time???

The Dream

 

The dream is over, now quietly wake up.

The new day is about to begin,

Don’t think about what you felt while sleeping.

Living in a dream is a dangerous adventure,

Please, don’t cross the line.

The dream is over, now quietly wake up.

The sun is shining peacefully,

Wake up…

Don’t close your eyes again, the lids are not heavy,

Don’t try to escape again, it is not worth it.

…

The dream is over but you can’t wake up,

You messed reality with illusions.

You lost your soul to something non-existent.

Now, please hear my quiet voice,

Please wake up

Before you lost another day in vain.

…

The dream is over but it is too late,

There is no tomorrow for you…

The dream has killed your soul

Just like it did to me…

Унищожете ме, нека изчезна

 

Влизам, излизам, сядам и ставам,

Навън и навътре търся и не намирам

Книгите с истории стари - забравени и обичани,

На мене прилични.

Лягам и пак ставам, не мога да гледам тавана,

Очите затварям и пак картините виждам

Рисувани със старите багри на топлина и умора.

Гледам и не виждам, говоря и мълча,

Не, не искам да знам,

Не, не искам да имам,

Не, не искам…

Не искам да имам тези платна,

Вземете ги всичките, заровете ги без да мислите…

Изкуството на болка ухае не на парфюм,

Не е за гадаене, само попитайте…

Намерих ги книгите – изгорете ги,

Нека тези разкази са на пепел….

Вземете ми всичкото, даже и песните,

те също са свирени в терзание…

Унищожете ги, не питайте защо…

Забравете ги…

Не, не искам изкуство да ме наричат,

Изтъкана от спомени болни.

И всички като критици

Да ме тълкувате с фигури и тропи…

Унищожете ме, нека изчезна…

Не искам аромата на сълзи от мен да се носи,

Не искам да имам, не искам да знам…

Не съм ни багра, ни нота, ни дума,

Аз съм неспиращ оксиморон…

Унищожете ме, нека изчезна

И в безкраността да се преродя.

How many times?

 

How many times can you die over night?

How many times can you lose your mind

Sitting quietly in the dark?

How many times can you survive the torture

Of being untrue to yourself?

How many times a soul can be shattered,

Pieces of a broken glass…

How many times a heart can stop beating

Just to feel alive?

How many times a death is welcomed into one’s life

When the finish line is blurred,

Hidden in the thick fog?

How many times the self-sacrifice is praised

Instead of being punished?

How many times the self-destruction is the only way

To feel a thing again?

How many times a forgotten being is the answer

Instead of being a cry for help?

How many times you have to lose yourself

In order to find the right path?

….

I am done with all of the above,

I have become a soulless being.

I do not long for the priceless salvation anymore,

The savior is long gone, non-existent.

 I no longer need to destroy the small piece of my soul.

Why being damaged is a bad thing?

Broken, forgotten, used and abused,

Tortured and crucified by those who don’t see

The beauty in the darkness when the moon is in its brightest.

....

I have died enough for anyone,

Now it’s time to live for myself, not for someone else….

In The Cold Light

In the cold light I stand still,

Emotionless and lost,

I am trying to remember

Who I was.

I am tired of giving myself,

To all who don’t appreciate me.

I am tired to blend in

Where I clearly do not belong.

I am tired to walk in anyone’s shoes,

I am tired to look for justification

For other’s actions

Just to find a better explanation.

I like myself shut,

Unable to feel the pain or joy

I like myself shut,

Building my walls up.

I am tired of being someone’s support

When all I need is to be left alone,

I am tired of being someone’s right hand

When no one stands behind me.

I am tired of all the excuses,

I am tired of all the lies.

I am tired of being accused

That I don’t understand.

…

In the cold light I stand still,

Fortified with huge fences,

I will never let myself feel

Any of the emotions.

I have willingly turned into robot

To preserve myself,

I will be my only one

To whom I bent a knee.

In the cold light I vow to myself

To never let my guard down

And even if feel the need of love

Mine to myself will be enough.

I promise I will cherish myself

Like I have never done before.

Here in the cold light

I let myself be reborn.

Mechanical Thoughts

 

My days are lonely,

My nights are cold,

As if I am not from this world.

I go outside,

See faces,

Hear words,

But no…

Nothing is familiar,

Nothing is close…

….

My being is fading away,

Left with the feeling of being a robot.

Mechanical hands,

Mechanical legs,

Cogs instead of a heart;

My veins replaced with hose-pipes,

Oils circulate there instead of blood.

…

No reflection in the mirror,

Blind are my eyes.

So isolated, misunderstood –

As if I am out of this world.