KittyWitch-and-Zanny

This is messing with my head. You believe do you? What's there to believe? Candy Hearts and Medication ripping out my soul. I feel like this soul rhyme, but it won't. Things are not always what you plan them to be. Sometimes you deserve what you find. Is this what you believe? It does not exist. Stop making me believe. All I know is, It is not real. But this is.

The Oyster said to the Walrus, “My, isn’t that caterpillar big! And the way he blows those smoke rings, Must almost scare the pig.” The Walrus replied In his slow, solemn drawl “Why, yes, my dear Oyster. But not at all.”

A swirling clash of colours and emotions bundled inside a blank wrapper of nothingness. Every sight, every sound is hiding, being hidden. Texture, touch, passion, pain. All shoved to the back. Blanked out by this impenetrable casing of emotional deprivation. I wish that I could reach your inner soul, it must be a tumbling cascade of fleeting, long forgotten hope. But every time I come close you push me away. So I will let you wallow in your destructive shell until you let me through. Into your seductive, secluding whiteness.

Beyond the starlight is a mirror, And through the mirror is a door that’s hanging off its hinges. Through the door is a dilapidated organ grinder with a skeleton monkey, whose flesh Is hanging like a jacket from his shoulders. Past his leering mouth, in a desperate face, and into his eyes, Which repeat a thousand untold stories of a colourful imagination, of a tortured past. Beyond the starlight is a mirror, And in the mirror is your reflection.

While the Game and Pigeon kiss in the corner, The Partridge will fly away. While the Swallow sits in her corner alone, The Blue Jay and Lark will talk. Slowly the walls of your castle are crumbling, And the hunters are moving in. Slowly the barriers of your life are crumbling, And this must be the end.

A Maybe that stands for Average Huh But you’re so much more than that So much, You can’t put it in words. I want to talk to you To smile. But I can’t. Never could. Still can’t. And now it’s too late For both of us No A must stand for…Amazing Now spin with me In these cornfields, Forever. And I find I can smile, And I always will. If you’re with me. But … you’re not. And I fall and fall Because no ones catching me.

I don’t know anymore. I don’t know anything. Who are you? And why are you dying? Should I hold your hand, And whisper kind words? Should I remember your features, And the feeling of my heart speeding up? What do I do? No! Don’t cry! Don’t say you’ll always care for me, Don’t bite your lip in sorrow and regret. Don’t die! I think I’m supposed to love you, Because now I feel like death. As you lay unbreathing, unmoving, I sob. For a man I never knew. But will always remember.

I could scream and shout but you would still be blind, To it all. To yourself, To your actions, To everything… Don’t you realise that when you hit me it hurts? That every insult you throw at me is like a bullet piercing my already fragile heart? Don’t you understand that I can’t sleep at night? That I want to run and never look back? And why do you never understand the fact I don’t protect myself from your blows? Because you’re all I ever needed to survive this pitiful existence. So as I lye here, waiting for your next tantrum, I slowly count the bruises that litter my body. These are your only present

A story… We are meant to write a story but I can not think of anything… So… I suppose I will write the only story I know well enough. My own. My name is Charlotte Blossom. Every one calls me Cherry. I do not know why. I can not ask now. In here no one cares what your name is. You are just a number. Not that I have not been a number all my life. I suppose, to better understand my mindset, you need my whole story. From tip to toe, as my mum used to say. So let us start from there. With my Mother. We owned a grimy flat in east Birmingham. It was filled with spider webs, which crisscrossed, as if holding the place together.

Why am I so shit at everything? Sometimes it all just feels so bloody pointless. No one cares. No one ever will. I suppose there’s no other way… … But… Your presence changes my mind. I’m not in love with you or anything (God Forbid) You just seem to care more than others. You make me smile. And for that I will be eternally grateful. Not enough to tell you, though. I’m still stupid, stupid, stupid. But now I’m an idiot with knowledge. So let’s talk about anything. Elric to Cullen. Herbal Medicine to Chickens. And forget our feelings. Just for a bit.