Insomnia and her friend, Loneliness

The birds are singing to me again
at 4 in the morning.

It’s always at this hour that they begin to serenade me.
Oh but surely, it’s not of love.

It’s just to reassure me that I’ve had another scandalous affair with Insomnia. They’re always the first ones to remind me of how adulterous I am.

Can you blame me?

How can I pass up the offer when Insomnia’s
knocking at my door with a new pair of lingerie
colored so beautifully in misery —
with a bottle of regret in her hand.
Not to mention her fine friend,
Loneliness.

These two always make my night, I tell ya.

But these birds are like my conscience,
but then again,
who the hell listens to their conscience anyway?
Eventually they’ll go away.

‘til the sun comes out and laughs in my face:
“Another sleepless night? Stay up babe, the day’s
just getting started.”

Go to hell.

And of course lovely Insomnia with her beloved Loneliness leave before then, but not before they strip me of sleep.

As always, I’m drunk with regret.
Nothing new. I’ve gotten used to the bitter taste
it leaves at the end of my tongue.

But still I assure you: I am not an alcoholic.

That’s just the price to pay for the company of Insomnia
and her friend, Loneliness.

 I’m still young. I’ve got plenty of more nights
before I can’t afford to lose sleep on you, Insomnia.
So come again with your friend,
while I’m still young.

and let the birds sing me another song.

Touched

You have touched every important part of me 

with your words,

with your mouth,

with your soul,

or your hands. 

There is nothing more comforting

or terrifying than that.

Reminder

The sweet smell of you

Still lingers on all my pillows

And sheets and stains my thoughts

With memories of love

And happiness

And it's incredible how a sense 

Can remind one of a past feeling

Or event

Like the first time you told me you loved me

Or when you faded away from my world

Because you were finally happy

Just not with me

And it's incredible 

That something that once may have helped me drift to sleep

Now only reminds me to change my sheets.

Feel

The things that frighten me the most don't even have a physical form -

thoughts,
words,
love,
lust,
fear,
loneliness,
heartbreak -

They're the things you feel with every component of your body, but will never see in its entirety.
That is why I believe the scariest things are what we can feel, but never touch.

Pain

Pain, it comes in all forms. The small twinge, a bit of soreness, the random pain, the normal pains that we live with everyday. Then there's the kind of pain you can't ignore. A level of pain so great that it blocks out everything else; makes the rest of your world fade away until all we can think about is how much we hurt. How we manage our pain is up to us. Pain. We anaesthetize, ride it out, embrace it, ignore it... and for some of us, the best way to manage pain is to just push through it.

Los laten.

Als je altijd om een bepaald liedje moet huilen en je bent het zat om te huilen, dan luister je er eenvoudig niet meer naar. Maar aan jezelf kun je niet ontsnappen. Je kunt niet besluiten om niet meer met jezelf om te gaan. Je kunt niet besluiten om het kabaal in je hoofd uit te zetten.

Ik liep maar wat doelloos rond buiten. En de kou was prettig. Het had geregend en mist was er nu voor in de plaats gekomen. Een lichte nevel. Ik zwierf uren door de stad, fantaserend dat de mist alsmaar dichter zou worden en me dan zou opslokken. Het gaf me een heerlijk gevoel; de gedachte zo simpel te kunnen verdwijnen.
Terwijl ik realiseerde dat niemand wist wat er speelde in mijn leven, werd mijn hele wereldbeeld door elkaar geschud. Zoals wanneer je over een hobbelige weg rijdt en de macht over het stuur verliest en je, net een tikje, de berm in word geslingerd. De modder spat onder de wielen omhoog. Je weet de wagen weer recht te krijgen, maar hoe je ook oppast, hoe je je ook concentreert, je word telkens weer opzij getrokken. En op een bepaald punt wordt het zwaar, te vermoeiend, en overweeg je het stuur maar los te laten. De tragedie, of wat dan ook, maar over je heen te laten komen.

These Things

I have longed to be the quiet, fading light that helps you sleep, and sunrise through the open door.
I've stayed awake for hours wondering how I could channel the most beautiful things through your eyes, and into your heart.
I have wished to be the warm, child-long summer that stirs your playful curiosity, and dreams across the long winter.
For a time I doubted, I could be any of these things, or the myriad others that fill my head each day.
But the stronger my life bonds with yours, the less I doubt my abilities, the more revealed is my part.
With love, all possibility follows, it follows me, it follows you. And all these things wished for are already true.