Count The Stars
- 10.9K words
They said that we are stars but we can't shine bright. They said that we should learn to appreciate our power of twinkling but we are no different from darkness. If truly, we are stars, then what kind of stars are we? It was what we fed ourselves with that ate us up from within. We had elastic hearts but those elastic hearts also had it's yield limit. At a point in time, we were filled with all sorts of poisonous honey. We were broken and viewed the world from broken glasses. And everything we wanted, never came as a whole. We were victims of circumstances. Our souls solely belonged to depression. All our lives, we felt numb. We had our scars and they are still bleeding. Yet, we survived.
When we don't build high fences for defence, people we don't want can come in and dump into us the all sorts of rubbish they have with them. We get polluted and our view of life changes. We get to see things in different perspectives and our mindset about our selves and the people around us is also prone to change.
We now make choices that we don't want. We now embrace things that will lead us far away from redemption.
Depression slips in and we are then lost in the deep sea of helplessness. Numbness sets in and we don't feel anything apart from worthlessness and emptiness. Worse still, dejection arises and we think that the only option is ending the life that we don't own.
We have wings but they are broken. We want to scream but we don't have a voice. All we want is a way of escape from the chains of addiction, anxiety and heart break.
But then, In us lies the fault and responsibility. Whatever we get to become today is as a result of the wrong choices of yesterday. When we failed to build high fences, soulless people came and captivated us.
This is our plight.
Our plight, Our flight.
I refused to die. Not with the shackles of burdens and chains of addiction.
I was so sad. I wished they could hear my pains through my venomous laughter and rescue me from further sinking into the bottomless pit of addiction and depression.
I was used to being hurt, I didn't know there could be any feeling as happiness. I wanted the world to hear the stuffs ringing in my head all day and then see the flames burning around me all day long.
I was faced with the coffin and the beast which would slay me. Couldn't wait to get asleep inside the coffin.
Could anyone feel less worthless?
I just wanted attention. All I craved for was a taste of real love but I'm a stone throw away from my demise.
He was my strange addiction. Turned me into a possessive maniac and manipulative bitch.
Selfishness, greed and ungratefulness made me up. I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted him all to myself but now, I can't even see his shadows. And I'm torn because life without him is full of illusions. Unfair illusions.
It was no other but him. Still got his pictures hanging around the hall way of my house, all in my head.
Wanted him. Hated him. Manipulated him for selfish reasons. Used him and is still head over heels for him.
But after our break up, he moved on. Something I never did or learnt to do.
Each night I would still hear his voice as a whisper. I still felt his presence.
I coughed badly as I got up from my rocking chair of woes and moved like a ghost towards the bookshelf that housed only three books.
I picked up one of them, and from it fell the wedding invitation card of him and his new lover.
The last thing I would do is to send my love to his new lover. I would send fire and brimstone.
I knew I was someday going to bury a friend.
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