Four Blind Mice

‘Tis sad, a man with perfect sight
Choosing to be blind to a friend’s plight
Endless times spent looking forward to nothing
That we forget to turn around
And watch the other’s back
When we choose not to see the sullenness
Behind a laughter so hollow
That Alice could fall through to wonderland
When we go deaf to the silent pleas for help
Instead setting our sights so far
That we fail to notice a door ajar
On our faces pretentious masks of concern
Completely oblivious to a soul ablaze
A hope so lost in despair
Until the last scene has played out
The curtain has fallen closed
And the cast has taken its bow
Not until it is too late do the masks fall off
Leaving in its wake guilt and shame
Horror and mortification at our own fallibility
And where there once was five, there is only four
And that permanent icy ghale

Contimuum Spat

I knew that life would move on without you
The wind still blows, but it plays to a different tune
The sun still shines, just not on me
Everyone’s happy laughter hangs in the air
But to me it’s a faint echo in the distance,
Silent whispers in the background
I look down at my watch and I don’t see the time
Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock-tick...
Just the faint reminder that it doesn’t wait
That it doesn’t stop and it won’t go back to fix me
Yet somehow I still can’t move forward
I can’t take those baby steps
I can’t say those elusive words
I am stuck in a timeless phantasm
Where I can’t let you go, yet I do not hold on
So I’ll just stop trying because the harder I try
The harder it gets; and soon it might get out of hand
Spiral out of control even and consume me
I’ll simply accept that you took a part of me
And when you walked out you took it with you
So I’ll give you that and work on protecting what’s left.

Familiar Bossom

It took me a while but I finally realized that even to the closest of friends, the ones who promise to be there for you, you’re only useful when they have problems of their own. When they want someone to listen to them vent, to lend them a shoulder to soak their tears on. And as long as things are good for them, it doesn’t matter how fucked up things are for you, it’s always them you’re expected to worry about. If they’re celebrating, you should be, whether or not your life is in the dump. And when they’re down? Well, you better crawl right under that rock with them, your problems, bigger or smaller than theirs, must take a back seat.

My pessimistic half always took this as gospel. But like everyone else, I chose to sideline those as the ranting chants of a sociopathic lunatic. And like most others, I learned from experience. The ultimate cliché. We talk about it so many times and fall for it even more. But it seems like we’re all in a race to see who can learn from the most gruesome experience. And learn from experience I have.

At the end of the day, when all was said and done, when the tears stopped and I pulled myself together, I realised that the only one who was ever really there for me, the only one who cared enough to ask, to soothe, to comfort...was me. Because when I needed them most, when I needed help or just a little bit of reassurance, all I got was me. I won’t complain, I won’t cry or lay blame. Instead, I’ll breathe a sigh of relief because their absence in my darkest hour allowed me to reconcile with myself. I got to talk to me and see that I had my own back. It’s comforting to know that at my weakest point, at a time when I was expected to crumble beneath the weight of despair, my feet didn’t buckle. Sure, my confidence was shaken, my spirit dampened and my tears were on overdrive. But I pulled myself together, I sorted myself out and pulled a phoenix where I thought there was none. So I guess in a way I should tip my hat to self centeredness and egotism. But most of all, I’ll be proud, blow my own horn and say I’ll tip my hat to myself.