Self Reflections/Despicable Me

Broken (Google Image Search)

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Maybe I am only good at creating wounds
Deep lacerations that leave behind scars
Which may heal but can never be erased.
Time has told me that one cut is never enough
I don’t want to cause the pain you are feeling
But I cannot stop myself once the words are out.

Imagine living as I do, knowing the wrongs I do
Yet being forced to see my face in the mirror
The face I wish I could damage permanently.
I know the monster that resides inside my soul
I have tried to escape, but it always finds me
And becomes one with the weakness in my mind.

I am a selfish thing, locked in the body of humanity,

Until now, I never knew I cared for myself so dearly,
But I see my selfishness always has the upper hand.

I feel ashamed of what I have become

Yet I take not a single action to become better

Instead I walk down the road to degradation.

I suck the life out of every soul close to me

It is the only art I have come to learn over the years
An art which I have mastered to perfection.

And when wrongs are done to me
I take the role of the victim, declare all is unfair
No wrongs are acceptable when done to me.

Time and time again, I realize why I am alone,
Why would one willing get wounded

When I have absolutely nothing else to offer?

What friends do I deserve, how can I be loved?
When I take it all for granted, when I throw it all away,

For I have never learned to see past the despicable me.

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Strangers are Our Friends

Finding Beauty in the Ordinary (by deadpoet88)

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I know what it is to be alone
In the midst of friends
And I know how deeply
This loneliness is perceived
Than if I were a solitary soul
Wandering down a solitary road.

I know how frantically
We cling to the first soul
That notices our existence
We hang on to the first kind word
Spoken through the winter
That has settled and made us cold.

And I know, I know
That words are just words
Just flimsy strings of frost
That melt when the sun rises
As kind words are forgotten
Once the stranger sees your soul.

For years I have been taught
That real friends are strangers
Only they understand the heart
While people known see the soul
Ugly and bare, unworthy of friendship
And leave for better unknowns.

Yet the heart is stubborn
And yet grieves for smiles lost
It still remembers the fleeting joy
Still longs for the warmth of a smile
And still clings to the friendliest voice
That rings through the depths of time.

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Today morning I woke up after seeing a very strange dream. In it I saw a childhood friend (with whom I had had a fallout back then) now grown. It was weird, she seemed excited to see me and it was almost like we were good friends. Don’t want to go into details of that dream, but it got me thinking about my childhood. I have always cherished my childhood, even though I wasn’t always liked at school. I remembered today how stupid fights would happen and suddenly one would stop talking to their best friend, or a group of friends would just single out a person in the group and ignore them. I actually learned to stop trusting friends at that point of time. When I moved to India things changed, no more of such incidents, but over time I guess few friendships really survive. The vigor of friendship eventually fades away, and you find yourself in the midst of people who you call friends by name but who probably won’t even notice you exist (or the other way around). Or maybe I was just never very lucky with friends, constantly ignoring those who cared for me the most, and always wanting to gain the attention of those who didn’t really consider me as close as I considered them. I know for sure that I have had a huge hand in many friends lost, and as much as I regret losing them, I know that it would be useless trying to get them back. Damage once done cannot be undone.