Friday, August 24, 2012


Burn my heart. I can't seem to get over the pain, my heart running on a sudden expiry date. I try and spread my wisdom and remember all the courage I once had, but I feel empty. I am so lost without you. Pathetic and without hope. Moments come where I feel I can move on, then I feel empty again. I try and focus on the things that I do have, I remember what we did have. I know I showed you that I was strong but I fear with this burning sensation filling my soul, I will not heal, nor do I care to carry on.

You have truly traumatized me.

Frida Kahlo (Mexican, 1907-1954). Without Hope, 1945. Oil on canvas mounted on Masonite. 11 x 14 1/4 in. (27.9 x 36.2 cm). Collection Museo Dolores Olmedo PatiƱo, Mexico City.
I am shaken to the bone. I am a starving child laying in the dirt, leprosy as my condition worsening as time goes by so slowly. Without medicine, without comfort. Begging for some explanation of the reason of my infliction. I didn't deserve this kind of fate. I wish you had had the courage to leave me in a way that showed some respect. Remember me crying when I came and when I told you to you I would breath my dying breath? It is you who has killed me.

Take me away from this miserable life, take me away from the illusion I created that love is stronger than pain. Lay me down and let me he hollow in pain. I don't want to be here anymore, it all seems to trivial. Your choice has left me with nothing to gain. I can speak the words that love is all and all is love - but I don't believe what I say. Silently in moments of silence I am burning away. Now you truly can know what it is like to inflict debilitating pain.
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