Dead woman walking, possesion from withing. I see the ones who live and are able to take relaxed breaths looking at me like I am of some weird disgusting race. I hear them talk behind me but not whispering..no they want me to know exactly what they are saying about me. Then I wonder is it really them or is it really a reflection or ego of what I feel and think of myself. Maybe it is psychosis since I seem to have lost my mind. It feels like I am dead already.
Dead woman walking, with no future.
When I hear all the preaches and all the judgements I tell myself try not to care. Just like you have done to yourself. You don't belong nowhere anyways.
Unlike the zombies I don't have rotten flesh falling from my body, neither I crave to eat peoples brains.
Unlike the zombies I don't have rotten flesh falling from my body, neither I crave to eat peoples brains.
Unlike them I dont make creepy sounds when I see humans pass nearby and start to reach to them in a agressive way. But I do miss a face. I do have eyes, I have a nose, I have a mouth..oh and I even have ears. So far they are good and don't miss any parts. But this face nobody can recognise. Not even myself…
I don't have a voice, not even how hard I scream from inside. I guess my thick biggest organ is not letting the vibrations of my screams get to the ears of others. When I talk It is like hearing somebody else speak. My voice is a stranger that is afraid of being hit or mutilated.
I dont crave for brains. The only thing I crave from people is not in their heads, I don't even know if it lies inside of them. Maybe it is around them, like some sort of aura..but why can't I see it? Why doesn't it want to meet me? Or maybe it is just invisble and has pass me by.
I can't touch it either.
The only time I have the courtesy to touch it, was when my mother let me heard it and then gave it to me for a few seconds before I went on my own yourney. I've always knew my mother had it, but I was never able to see it.
When she decided it was time to let me hear it, touch it..it was too late for me. I was already dead.
It is also hard to continue when within you, you feel it's over and still trying to find a beat, or some sort of awaking in your past. I wonder why I see my past as a third person. Why I don't recognise myself in all the pictures I have took or had been taken of me.
I don't remember how it felt like to be me in the pass. I just feel this pain, so intensely that it feels like it has always been with me. Like a shadow watching over me. Following me and then finally posses me until I became the shadow myself.
With new beginnings every other day. With failures everyday. With anxiety, fears and depression everyday I walk this earth like a big dead corpse everyone detest. Some try to understand, some even try to care but what can you do with a death corpse? I can't have expectations.
I am taking it day by day. Sometimes poisioning myself, hurting myself or wishing to be more alive. Sometimes working and trying to supress my death. Do you know how hard it is to live in a coffin while your body is decomposing? Locked in the dark, growing bigger everyday until you start to loose it all slowly. I hear some call it lazyness, self pitty. I don't mind when they say that, since they are not the one in the coffin. Say what you want about me, I have heard it all.
I am in the coffin but I am not buried yet. From time to time, when nobody is watching I dwell the earth. And I can still hear them talk.
I am the body of deformed genes and cells. What gives me the right to pass it on, on the next generation. But it doesn't matter to this planet, if I don't do it others in my tree will. They already are. I am insignificant. After all it's survival of the best genes. They are the ones who have to live so that the human excistence can continue and progress. So then the motivation keeps shrinking for a resurection.
Hah..it is funny and ironic how this same woman who consider herself dead is afraid to destroy her physical form. The same woman who sometimes thinks she wants to be completly dead.
I fear dark when I am already living in the dark. Once in awhile I take a peek, and open atleast one eye to see around. I slowly get my hurting self out of my dark coffin to try to feel like what it is like outside. I travel into the walls around me, even become one with the coffin, like some sort of membrane and I observe, a camouflage.
I let certain things pass and certain things not. But I see the happy ones, the ones surrounded by light and I get scared and even jealous sometimes. Some makes me think they have it inside them, the have a warmth and relaxed radiance that lights the way around them. I look at them, with disire of infection. But I am nothing to do them. I go back..much more backwards, much more deeper. I try to get my hands ready for what might be the best for me..but..
My hands can't stay strong to pull the trigger, or make the cut,neither to take the pills. Wow..what a pussy. Do I have something to fear? I guess I might be afraid to just stop excisting like I was never here, I never lived and I try and try but I can't seem to. I am not of many ages, but my 'soul' is old and tired. Where did my passion go?
My whole excistence was for nothing. I suffered, I cried, I worked on things I thought I wanted so much. And now I gotta leave it all..How can you feel so dead inside and yet feel afraid to leave? It is suppose to feel good when you know you are leaving your pains, your suffering. Why does it cause more suffering and fear?
Arg this coward can't..not today. But until then I will still be a dead woman walking.
