On My Side of the Window

I like the feel of glass against my face. It's the closest I can bring myself to reality. The door is right there, next to hopefully waiting shoes. But going out there means making contact with the inhabitants of planet earth. How the hell did I get here? I wish I could just run out into the grass, feel the rain just rip through my bare skin. It'd be too soon if I never heard another car ever again. If I never heard another voice again.

Why does someone else, someone who doesn't know me, get to decide what happens in my life? It's mine! It's one of the few things that is completely and utterly mine with no strings attached. Why are people trying to take it away from me? It's not theirs! Its fucking mind rape. They're molesting my fucking soul.

I hate the feel of their fat, crawling fingers reaching into me and grabbing constantly at my thoughts, as if my mind weren't concious and doesn't realise what they're doing. I want that one hand, educated and ready, strumming the strings of my soul like a guitar. I hate this fucking clawing hand thats just ripping at my thoughts.

Why is it there? Fuck OFF. That's all I want! I just want the world to fuck OFF for a little while. Let me be utterly alone to cry. Let me be alone to smile. Just let me be alone for a time.

I want to lay down in that meadow in my head, smell that sweet tall grass, hear that brook a ways off, feel the sun on my face. I want to close my eyes and know when I open them, this good feeling isn't just a dream. I want that beauty of peace, of love. I want it more than I can possibly express. I find myself realising at times that the reason I'm moving through life at all is because in the back of my mind, I believe it exists and that I will get there someday.

Have you ever felt like a piece of meat? A giant slab of ground beef being held up by a skeleton and some skin. Thats what I feel like sometimes. One big hunk of slaughtered cow. I should be laughing at that. But morbidly enough, I'm not because its all too real.

I want to feel foreign hands on my torso, drawing gently across my stomach, tracing up my arms, trailing down my thigh, clasping behind my back, caressing behind my ears and along my neck, dragging their thumb across my lips, outlining my eyelids and arching over my cheeks. I want that feeling of complete love. I want to feel those rays of light on a spring day that cut through the glass. I want to taste that real fruit, cut those peaches and pears in my hands, with a smile on my face, because I know, everything is going to be okay.

I want it. But I can't get it. Its like I've run into a ceiling. And above this ceiling, is the floor where all this is reality and takes place. But I can't get through to it because I'd just end up destroying it. Because She's not gone. She's the one that fucked up my head, She's the one that doesn't shut up, She's the one that fucking ruins everything. She's that fucking voice that I can't silence. Sometimes, She sleeps, and I get to come out. But She always wakes up and shakes the chain She's got around my neck.

I want to push through that window. Reach out again... fall out into my imaginary reality.