"Depressive States"

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"Depressive States"

Khatoon Hazara ||| 6.12.18 ||| 10:29pm ||| @Yu Mincho ||| 11.5 pt. font

Khatoon Hazara ||| 6.13.18 ||| 8:41am ||| @Yu Mincho ||| 11.5 pt. font

Khatoon Hazara ||| 6.13.18 ||| 9:10am ||| Comic Sans MS||| 11.5 pt. font

I am anew.. no, you're not. The same mistakes define you until your fingernails are bleeding with your tears. This is true, it is always true. I am most alert when you are icing me out. But the wait is decent. It took pity on me and now I wait in gold lace. Sometimes, I am alone in my wait, but this time, I have your words; your voice dancing in the wind, your whispers; those fruity scents. I am patient, or as patient as I claim to be. I am odd, but please, do not take pity on my many falls. For I have fallen as many times as I have risen and thus, forwardly, I am begging of your approval, again...

I know - sometimes - I can be overwhelming, that is why I must make it clear that now... now, there is nothing more to say, except, I am leaving. I am leaving, but I am not leaving you - no, never you - I am leaving the realm of barriers. Harken! My leige, oh, you must take pious pity on me, for, as my own penance, I shall burn a great deal crisp in your merciful aura, and you shall forsee to it that I will. I am apologetic, do you not know? I wish to redeem myself, but not in the eyes of my masses, no - never that - but only in the eyes of the one that holds me tight. 

It would be quite wrong of me to say that: without him, I am left without meaning, because - and, humans do have this trait among them - a woman should never be defined by her man. And this I know in truth... this I know in depth, in vast, in dimension, in realm, in scape of context, in duty, in honor - in scale. Do see me as a voice, a face, a nose, a mouth, two eyes, hands, feet, legs, arms, shoulders: the varying degree of human ligaments. But -oh, please - do not see me as anything more, anything less. I am noble, humble, modest, tired, weary, sore, mundane, boring, dull, dun: nor have I any market value. I am not a thing to be defined thereof, nor am I a fabric, a cloth, a sponge, a ragdoll, a curtain - none of your fancies. 

I am human.

I am me.

Only ever changing by falling in the same exact holes I've came out of, again.. again: only to find that my bones are all shattered - no, bruised, molted: anything but the true decaying manner in which they hold their honest form in.

*

But, and now - am I weary? yes. - I am weary and wary from all this hurt, and I am sleepy, my eyes are beyond sleep altogether.