Save Me From The Bare Darkness
{"I wish somebody, some entity would’ve told me, even warned me with the intuitiveness that lies within the motherly instincts, the nature of humanity without malevolent reluctance.
That lying in the darkness for whom which shrouds and coaxes wasn’t for the betterment
Of me. For I have withered in the lurking and indented damage of myself, waiting for you,
To save me from the dark.
The Paradise coaxes me gently and whispers into my ear, The Forrest I linger unusually isn’t near my footsteps that dangle along the sidelines of my entity. The footsteps mark the traces of my path, my heart, joyous yet lingering sadness that etches onto the pavement and never erases away.
My feet voyage me through another, then another, and to a never-ending one filled with malevolence and brutality that erases itself from the chains of one's mind. The sensations of the bottom of my feet meddling into the sand and crackling with the chuckles from the first grade are endless.
My thoughts go back as they always do, they bring me never-ending pain sifting through the dead of me, the dead inside of me, in the cars of my friends, I remember hitting up the playlist and mixing up the music so it would be pretentiously so satisfying, loud and soothing that we wouldn’t be able to hear the miraculous sentiments coaxing us in our minds with it’s presence.
I am reminded of the Palm trees and the Oakland ones, though the winter tarnish brought me more towards the cliffhanger that shifts and changes from the insides of me- secretly distorted I knew from the back of my mind if anything to not shut the music and instead be it to free myself from my pain and suffering, the agonizing reminders and how I wept over the bowl that hung on top of the bathroom granite table and puked my guts out after an early school morning from feeling the sickness kaleidoscope all day every day for an eternity I beg to differentiate.
My head was always distorted, rummaging through the concrete I found my way towards the treehouse hung over nature, far off in a corner for plain view sight as I could escape from my fears shrouding me and the sickness protruding within.
December ends and in comes January, when the waves and nature call back to me.
The treehouse which has been through the fires and flames, the tornadoes and hurricanes, but it still stands tall and vague and beautiful. With its scars matching mine yet I commenced into my funeral already, and the tree lashes back at me for why I was so sentimentally disturbed on the first occasion. I had not answered to give, no sensations to commence, the trees, the forest for whom which fought against flames, As I fought against people. I haven’t succeeded even if it was shown that way, undeserving, downright stupidity lurks through my veins, And cuts to my intellectual mindset, everything out of reach as I stretch my limbs and shoulders,
I voyage into the forest and they embrace me with their presence. Peace with no serenity. They lash out at me and I surrender myself to the flames of Agora.
Where the innocent gets succumbed by it, where the kindness saturating through my actions, Never blooms and blossoms,
forever ignored. Where you have to be the best at lashing out to the broken,
Where you don’t surrender yourself to the flames, Where you have to break and be broken, then break the others,
Where you have to be strong enough to shut your eyes in the aftermath, and click off the lights gaslighting in your head,
Where you don’t have to take medication, where you could be so mean yet so intelligent that nobody would throw you into the flames as they once did, Thrown into the flames as Abraham, though with it burning the insides left of me though the coldness takes over, extend your hands, lull me out and away infinitely from this misery.
This agonizingly cruel, deceptive nature, so
Save me from the darkness that shrouds and confines, barricaded."
Copyright © Dilara Aydin | Year Posted 2024
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