Diary Entries

My words have ran out, but honestly they left at the hammer strike.
We are voids apart connected by cords,
living in a world of darkness, unable to touch nor see.

I'm paralysed by the voice's dolorous melody.
I can't reach out to provide comfort, there is nothing I can do,
I am powerless, impotent, lost.

I kneel to the wishes asked of me,
in hope for a return perhaps in the form of a proviso,
the thought of anything else couldn't be accepted.

we once exchanged keys of hearts.
I gave your key back to you,
I wonder if you still have mine handy, I never took it back.

Conversations are struck with an illness,
points of interest escapes us,
Words are becoming meaningless.

Our condition slowly deteriorates,
Eventually the voice left me,
my last sense was lost.

I've kept images to give you a sense of presence,
like showing a drowning man a picture of oxygen,
all I managed to achieve was envy.

Time continues on as the yearning strengthens,
like a desert prisoner denied death and water,
the thirst surpasses human limits.

From the outside a shell of normality is presented,
from within I've locked myself within my mind,
huddled in the corner with my dying memories.

Its a padded room, white, empty,
I'm constrained by a straight jacket of apathetic quiescence,
rocking side to side and bashing my head to the beat of passing time.

The red lines across my chest spell dementia,
I don't understand the message amongst the chaotic mess,
I need to carve more, a desultory search for clarity.

I sit at my watch point, refusing to eat and sleep,
you come and go without a greeting,
I begin to feel like a ghost.

I see you when I'm dreaming,
back in the silence before the storm,
I don't want to return from this calm.

I produce a sharp point from my pocket,
it promises me comfort and peace,
I'm still not strong enough to use it.

I realise with a last scrape of sanity,
virtuous admiration has mutated into perverted aspirations,
I want to be cured of my sickness.

please bless me with counsel and converse.