untitled...

It’s almost like those poems and songs. The ones that blow your mind until you realise that they're all untitled.
What can one make of this blunt honesty? This obvious disintegration? The violent withering and towering heights?
Sometimes one cannot help but wonder what the hell we are all fighting for, and what will come at the end of it.

There are those moments which, although untitled, can mean the world to you...lazy sunshine and rolling hills...yet there are the others which, under the same name, thrash and kick out against every core of your being until you lie, exhausted, in an unattractive bundle on a cold tiled floor.

Yes I felt those knives you pushed into me, I felt them then and I feel them now, I feel them twist and burn as my body quivers with charged emotions. I feel everything and I long for numbness, I long to be free of your treacherous caress. I long to be free of your lies.

You plan my future and like a wild animal hurled into a cage I cry out in desperation and claw at the steel bars.

You stroke me in my cage. You stroke me until my eyelids droop and my voice fades.

I refuse to be untitled.