Months passed by. A few or too many, she couldn't tell. She remained in the same state, so it didn't really seem to matter. Well not really the same, nothing was the same anymore. She was haunted now. What could she do?
This falsified comfort
Like an inner self
Or soul
With you
Always with you
Haunting your waking moments
And stalking your dreams
That ghost, again, ever since the funeral. Every waking moment. It held her close, with arms that couldn't touch, so a touch she couldn't feel. It went through her. The ghost would sit with her, comfort her as she spent endless hours crying, telling her he still loved her and that everything would be okay.
"Well then why did you leave?"
"Don't you love me anymore?"
'Of coarse I do'
'I never left you'
"Of coarse you did! You killed yourself!"
"You went away..."
'No, he killed me...'
She knew it was true. That the ghost had done nothing wrong. He loved her, as he always had. So she couldn't be angry with him. After all, it was her husband who killed himself, and not the ghost. The ghost continued his sad attempts to comfort her. How close she was to him. She could almost feel the ghosts touch. It was all in her heart though.
And was almost like
He was still
There with
Her
She could still remember the feeling when it was like this. It filled the cavity that was her heart, made it ache less, as if filling it with life. It still hurt, because she saw through the ghosts comfort, and knew that it could never replace him actually being alive. The ghost was as sad and lonely as she was...
Drifting, it's not real
For he feels her ache
And forms complete sympathy
For he feels
What she feels
He too is
The lonely one
Will you cry for me?
He stared at her miserable as ever. They existed on two separate planes, and so they could never be together. All the while they watched his murderer, live and look like him, but be a complete stranger. They would both beg (even though he couldn't see or hear the ghost) him to make it right. To make it better. To let the ghost back in. But he would claim there was nothing he could do to change what had happened, and that he didn't even regret what he had done.
After awhile, she just couldn't take it. She told the ghost to leave. His presence did comfort her, but it also reminded her of everything she had lost. It was torture. He looked at her, a melancholy stare, and told her 'If you ever need me again, call my name'. Then he disappeared. She cried all night long, till pure exhaustion took her into sleep.
The days ahead were grey and empty. Sounds came to her vaguely and without meaning. After only a day she found herself weeping his name, and saw him appear beside her, his iridescent arms wrapped around her as best they could. "I can't love a ghost forever" she whispered "And I doubt he'll ever try to revive you...". The ghost sighed 'I know... I know... but I love you so much. I wish he could understand that. I don't even know why he did it in the first place...". She could see the pattern forming. This is how it would be, forever. Whispers of love, echos of comfort, and nights that drown with tears...
Will we let it go?
It's all we've got now
The feelings that used to be whole
Now are hollow in their presence
They cannot be let go
For the fear of losing what little survived
And all that we know
It will be gone
As ghosts are pale like old photos
And rot with time
Or will you cry with me?
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Still In The Mourning
Stood still all the same
With tears that fall like rain
Undertaken in the arms of sorrow she looked toward the grave. It was a cool grey, nothing could rot it through for centuries, yet she was sure she could tear it open bear handed, to reach her love, at any given point, if needed.
Stop
Was all that time could do for her
She just wanted to stop it. Weeks ago, months ago. The further back the better. "You'll be fine", "Your so young"; not words of comfort but seemingly taunts, reminding her of how quickly she had come to her own ruin.
Stupid wretched thing
All the more despicable with every growing second
Love was the last thing she ever wanted to be destroyed by. But he was dead and so what can this emotion do but destroy her? It builds and then it tears, for even the closest lovers are eventually separated by time.
Now what could be done?
It seemed like it all happened so fast. Loneliness, love, laughter, murder, agony... in this order. She had no idea what to do or how to heal. She had never had to heal before, or at least, not like this. She could feel the ache of her
chest, the racing of her pulse, she just wanted to scream. For all the intimacy, for all the tragedy, for everything she felt, to scream and release the pain like the excorsisim of a demon, and be done with it.
"He
Was
Murdered
He
Is
Gone
Never
Coming
Home..."
She repeated this in her mind a thousand and one times. It bruised her every time, the truth made her physically flinch. Death's gift. It takes you to another world. Makes everything unreal. Makes time not stop, but simply run together and cease to mean anything at all.
'How can he be here?
Dose he really have the nerve
Wait... why wouldn't he be in jail?
He should be... he's a murderer...
He could kill others...'
Her loves murderer stood beside her, calmly as if he were at the funeral of his own friend. He had tears of his own in his eyes. He looked like he was sorry to see his victim go. She wanted to scream every obscenity she knew at him, beat him, taunt him, ridicule him, just so he could feel her pain for just one moment. But she didn't because he looked so familliar, and she really couldn't place from where or when.
She glanced toward the grave, to see her love's ghost floating next to it. Her jaw dropped and she began to feel faint. Tears flooded her eyes again. The murderer helped her keep her balance. "But...", was all she ever got to say. She glanced again at the murderer, then at her love's ghost. She understood everything completely now. They were the same person. Her love was her love's murderer. He had committed suicide. She whispered "Why?"... but the dead of coarse, cannot answer.
No longer alive
The memory haunts
Not really dead
Reality taunts
And love plays it's tricks
And leaves us only with what we remember
Or choose not to forget
In everything we are this
Alive
Remembering
Trying not to forget
That the stars were so much brighter
Yesterday...
With tears that fall like rain
Undertaken in the arms of sorrow she looked toward the grave. It was a cool grey, nothing could rot it through for centuries, yet she was sure she could tear it open bear handed, to reach her love, at any given point, if needed.
Stop
Was all that time could do for her
She just wanted to stop it. Weeks ago, months ago. The further back the better. "You'll be fine", "Your so young"; not words of comfort but seemingly taunts, reminding her of how quickly she had come to her own ruin.
Stupid wretched thing
All the more despicable with every growing second
Love was the last thing she ever wanted to be destroyed by. But he was dead and so what can this emotion do but destroy her? It builds and then it tears, for even the closest lovers are eventually separated by time.
Now what could be done?
It seemed like it all happened so fast. Loneliness, love, laughter, murder, agony... in this order. She had no idea what to do or how to heal. She had never had to heal before, or at least, not like this. She could feel the ache of her
chest, the racing of her pulse, she just wanted to scream. For all the intimacy, for all the tragedy, for everything she felt, to scream and release the pain like the excorsisim of a demon, and be done with it.
"He
Was
Murdered
He
Is
Gone
Never
Coming
Home..."
She repeated this in her mind a thousand and one times. It bruised her every time, the truth made her physically flinch. Death's gift. It takes you to another world. Makes everything unreal. Makes time not stop, but simply run together and cease to mean anything at all.
'How can he be here?
Dose he really have the nerve
Wait... why wouldn't he be in jail?
He should be... he's a murderer...
He could kill others...'
Her loves murderer stood beside her, calmly as if he were at the funeral of his own friend. He had tears of his own in his eyes. He looked like he was sorry to see his victim go. She wanted to scream every obscenity she knew at him, beat him, taunt him, ridicule him, just so he could feel her pain for just one moment. But she didn't because he looked so familliar, and she really couldn't place from where or when.
She glanced toward the grave, to see her love's ghost floating next to it. Her jaw dropped and she began to feel faint. Tears flooded her eyes again. The murderer helped her keep her balance. "But...", was all she ever got to say. She glanced again at the murderer, then at her love's ghost. She understood everything completely now. They were the same person. Her love was her love's murderer. He had committed suicide. She whispered "Why?"... but the dead of coarse, cannot answer.
No longer alive
The memory haunts
Not really dead
Reality taunts
And love plays it's tricks
And leaves us only with what we remember
Or choose not to forget
In everything we are this
Alive
Remembering
Trying not to forget
That the stars were so much brighter
Yesterday...
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The Despair Faction Pt. 1
Although it may seem weird to write a full blog about the Despair Faction, I felt I needed to.
Tonight I visited the Thirty Seconds To Mars (one of my all time favorite bands) forum for only the second time, and I was looking through posts and rules, but I wasn't able to stay for very long. The rules were amazingly strict sounding and unwelcoming. I was seriously repelled. Although the posters were nice enough, I felt like I was reading a book, starting with the last chapter when I read through some of the topics. I couldn't get into it at all. It just seemed like a group of online friends talking, it didn't really seem like anything more (although avid posters of this forum may tell me differently, and I respect that, this was just my first impression).
The Despair Faction boards are the complete opposite. I never felt our of place, or alone there (I love how people often greet new members with "Welcome to the family"). Most people on the boards are wonderfully patient and will gladly help you if you have any problems. They don't put up with crap of coarse, and will tell you when your wrong... but it feels like a family. Even though I'm still not super close to any of them, I feel very at home. I feel connected to them. They are all very intelligent people, but usually don't show off or try to act like they are better than they really are. I have gotten into a few arguments, but nothing major or unforgivable.
I've always felt closer to AFI as a band. They do so much for their fans, and it's extremely apparent that they want to be as close to their fans as possible. After all, we are a faction, a family, and we are in this together. They seem to very much realize this. The BEGINTRANSMISSION contest is just one more way of them showing they care and want to meet their fans. Plus, their lyrics are just so personal, there isn't a single AFI song that I can't relate to. Their music makes you feel like your not alone, that someone has been through exactly what you've been through, and that it is possible to come out of the other side.
I want to become a DF member very soon, and the next time I get my hands on thirty dollars it will be the first thing I do. Just so I become an official member of this family, for life. It's an exceptionally small price to pay really.
To The Despair Faction: I love you all and I will hopefully be joining officially very soon!
To AFI: You have no idea how much you mean to me, I'm looking forward to the new album!
(Part two of this blog coming soon. I will also do an in depth review of the new AFI album when it comes out, so look for it!)
Tonight I visited the Thirty Seconds To Mars (one of my all time favorite bands) forum for only the second time, and I was looking through posts and rules, but I wasn't able to stay for very long. The rules were amazingly strict sounding and unwelcoming. I was seriously repelled. Although the posters were nice enough, I felt like I was reading a book, starting with the last chapter when I read through some of the topics. I couldn't get into it at all. It just seemed like a group of online friends talking, it didn't really seem like anything more (although avid posters of this forum may tell me differently, and I respect that, this was just my first impression).
The Despair Faction boards are the complete opposite. I never felt our of place, or alone there (I love how people often greet new members with "Welcome to the family"). Most people on the boards are wonderfully patient and will gladly help you if you have any problems. They don't put up with crap of coarse, and will tell you when your wrong... but it feels like a family. Even though I'm still not super close to any of them, I feel very at home. I feel connected to them. They are all very intelligent people, but usually don't show off or try to act like they are better than they really are. I have gotten into a few arguments, but nothing major or unforgivable.
I've always felt closer to AFI as a band. They do so much for their fans, and it's extremely apparent that they want to be as close to their fans as possible. After all, we are a faction, a family, and we are in this together. They seem to very much realize this. The BEGINTRANSMISSION contest is just one more way of them showing they care and want to meet their fans. Plus, their lyrics are just so personal, there isn't a single AFI song that I can't relate to. Their music makes you feel like your not alone, that someone has been through exactly what you've been through, and that it is possible to come out of the other side.
I want to become a DF member very soon, and the next time I get my hands on thirty dollars it will be the first thing I do. Just so I become an official member of this family, for life. It's an exceptionally small price to pay really.
To The Despair Faction: I love you all and I will hopefully be joining officially very soon!
To AFI: You have no idea how much you mean to me, I'm looking forward to the new album!
(Part two of this blog coming soon. I will also do an in depth review of the new AFI album when it comes out, so look for it!)
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Well, here it is...
My blog. Hopefully I'll be much better about keeping this one up, than my last one. Which I abandoned one month after I got it.
I can't take all of the credit for the title of this blog, it's based off a lyric from a Dredge song.
I'll have more to say next time, especially if I get some viewers!
~ Meghan
I can't take all of the credit for the title of this blog, it's based off a lyric from a Dredge song.
I'll have more to say next time, especially if I get some viewers!
~ Meghan
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