"hell hath no fury like that of a woman scorned... "
i agree. and to a degree, i know perfectly well what it feels like.. to speak and not be heard. to be looked upon but not seen. to be stripped and scrutinized in your nakedness, found to be lacking. nothing hurts more than being helpless in things that consume you. nothing maims the soul than knowing that there are things that move that are beyond you. that impossible is THE (if not the only) possibility of man.
i can not articulate what exactly it is i feel now that i see you struggle.. it is not triumph for i can never play the victor to the hurt of another.. it is not sympathy for you and i are too much of a stranger to the other. there is nothing between us. nothing between us. not anymore.
i wrote this piece a long time ago. when my pen would often stain the parchment with blood. but now that things ARE, i have to start letting go of things that have come to pass. my fist will clench no more. but they will never forget the blows that have landed. in this great future, i refuse to forget my past...part of where i want to be is knowing where i've been :
i guess this makes us even. the world dangles on the eloquence of a silence that is beyond even speech's descriptive capacity for words and utterances. if you need me, me and neil will be hanging out with the dream king. no part of me that denies your absence will endure. not on the faulty reason that me and john doe like the same ice cream. All the world is. All that I AM. The black of the blackest ocean. And that TEAR in your hand. Haze all clouded up my mind in the daze of the way IT COULD HAVE NEVER BEEN so you say and I say... Do you know YOU'RE FULL OF WISH and your baby, baby, babies? So, with all the phantoms and corpses you left encased in the tomb of my mind, I will catch a ride with the waxing and waning of the moon. It seems that I know you well. Well BETTER THAN I USED TO that is. How the world conveniently shrinks to a simple matter of LIGHT AND SHADE in reduced circumstances! I think there are PIECES OF ME you've never seen, perhaps ALL SHE IS, is nothing but a piece me YOU'VE NEVER SEEN WELL. [an abomination and selective mutiny to a beautifully composed song, redefined to better give word to my deafening silence due to an 11-month grudge. hail to a certain T.A. for putting into song, what I could have not sung better myself...]