I’m Not Like Other Girls

VII

Yesterday the mirror made me cry

Today it was the breeze

Tomorrow it will be a wish

Then the day after tomorrow, it will be a touch of a leaf, or a drop of rain, or the haze of the winter

Last night it felt like pure ecstasy

Flowing in the liquid waves of music

The strokes of the purple tunes lifting me up dancing me around

And then it was all dark again, still is, still waiting for it to light up, to shine like dimming crystals

A battle of capturing the blessing of the moment so that it stays, against letting it be so that it grows

A dilemma of whether to let the dull moments of hurt remain captive in words, or to let them come true by giving them words

It's all just heavy at the end, crashing on me, there is a limit to which I can take it, and the limit is stretching and stretching

The mornings are wet, burdened with a depressive sleep

The afternoon and the evening get lite, as the day of the dread ends

Then the dread jumps back up, as the night awaits with its monster-claws to devour me in tears Again and again.

VIII

I wish I could go back to friendship

Because I don't know where I belong anymore

I wish I could go back to the fantasy of love

Because I don't know what to look forward to anymore

I wish I could know sooner that there was nothing and there is nothing

So that I would not expect anymore and pinch my eyes out with bloody tears

A portal has opened, no breeze on the other side but a dull stormy wind, flapping against my fainting aura, sucking away any thought of control I had left through blue silver strokes of shock.

Dark but bright, foreshadowing the upcoming of something

I thought I knew about it but I didn't, I thought I figured it out but I didn't, now it's all rushing back to me hiding into the blank from where it all came, useless and meaningless, mocking me as if I made something, which was nothing at all.

The open portal is waving a flag of ending or maybe a beginning, but either way, it looks like life drained out of it, in any way, it looks like the loud screeching end of story.

Is there a story left even, it's now sick and dying waiting to be rewritten or to be dusted into oblivion, let it rest now, it accepts defeat.

I wish this timeline could disappear

I wish this universe could dust away

I wish I didn't exist, not redacted or vanished, just my existence getting reversed

It all doesn't have to be this devastating for nothing

It all doesn't have to be falling apart for nothing

It all doesn't have to leaving nothing at all for nothing

It doesn't matter if someone sees anything or not

Or maybe it does for a moment, then it doesn't in another

I wish today could keep ending forever and tomorrow never began

IX

I wish I wasn't like this

Floating in a cold air, exposed, open, in the worst way possible, particles of currents of discomfort, of shame, shame for what though, what have I done?

I wish I wasn't like this

I wish I too could be hush hush, a pro of sweet and simple manipulation

I wish I wasn't like this

I wish I could wear the crown of blame like an adornment, and not a heavy stone

I wish I wasn't like this

I wish I could embrace happiness being the shameless being as one could be, and not be burdened with the strangling lump of guilt, guilt for what? What have I done?

I wish I wasn't like this

I wish I too was happy being loudly dumb and mute with a dimly cunning mind

I wish I too could fight; I wish I too could survive

I wish I wasn't like this

I wish I wouldn't get a fever with the thought of continuing to exist, I wish could live carrying death inside me like a loving stinky tumor

I wish I wasn't like this

I wish I could blow life like a cute little dirty dusty rumor