Chapter 1
the thought of her had crossed my mind as the sweetest one every morning if not all the time but I felt myself wince.. because that’s all she is to me now just a thought
you were just a thought a fantasy I made up in my head.. & fell for & I wondered.. how I could love such thing so far away from my reach so false.. & so forbidden
while I wanted death more than anything you spoke your first words to me & they wiped my suicide note clean & I fully realize that I’m under no obligation to live for anybody but you among other things have bought me a number of days to live & breathe art again..
& some nights I really prayed that can won’t run empty
Chapter 2
lorn —adjective forsaken, desolate, bereft, or forlorn. Archaic. lost, ruined, or undone. Origin: 1250–1300; Middle English; Old English
lovelorn —adjective lonely and abandoned; forlorn. being without love; forsaken by one’s lover. Origin: First recorded in 1625–35; love + lorn
{—} you know I get you, right? or I think I do but you don’t get me, but you think you do we’ve become such ghosts to each-other now such silhouettes.. & I just couldn’t stand to be where you don’t see me for who I am truly I deeply craved to be caught sight of in-depth — & seen for my poetry & my 12 slit veins..
I know myself & I know her well, more than others.. but I only began to love her when I stripped her soul naked witnessed all her virtues & sins when I cut her open & watched her bleeding poetry & dauntlessly, she didn’t falter because she wasn’t afraid of laying her chest bare like that but the complete opposite.. she wanted to that intimacy was tenderly desired that vulnerability was tenderly wanted
& it was her great perhaps
the second she showed me that she won my adoration — & I became her first fan but, you just know loving her wasn’t so easy.. because loving this wretched poet that is me can be a goddamn challenge — hence the lovelorn part & I still don’t know what you’ve seen in me so far.. because I don’t think you’ve seen enough of me to call it love
Chapter 3
I never had much room to love anyone.. no matter how much I craved it, time wasn’t by my side & the world had dragged me away from every soul I heard calling my name.. but love.. was the elixir of life, as much as I know it was the elixir of mine one night, I asked fate.. & he told me the same thing but you know, the thing about love that has always managed to hook me back into it is that.. love is fun love is like a theme park for poets like me once I got on that rollercoaster took a ride on the Ferris wheel won a teddy bear & watched the fireworks light up the night sky.. I was like a kid, I didn’t want to stop playing love was adventurous.. fun & crazy & I am a fool for that kind of stuff I know I never needed to love anyone, I just wanted to..
Chapter 4
I doubted our love so very often & I hated you for letting me feel uncertain.. I felt unseen.. and you were the one to blame because my mistake, I always let you call the shots I gave my gun away when it was loaded.. & now I am at the end it waiting for you to shoot me down.. or set me free because you were the one.. & the only one whom I’ve mistakenly given my heart to & I am starting to lose the interest in having one
you were my Robin, I would have stolen you a whole orchestra
& I know it’s wrong for love to die like this but he was in so much pain.. & I wanted to put him out of his misery
Chapter 5
{Prologue}
— December of 2017 —
I had just gotten out of therapy with the faintest frown drawn on my face I am back home.. where nothing felt like home I knew pills never fixed me, so how could they now? & my psychiatrist just always seemed at a loss of words when presented with mine he couldn’t fix me either the hallway to my room called out to me & the curtains blocking out the city lights greeted me & everything felt my sadness I laid down in my bed staring at the cracked ceiling of my room with nothing in my mind but melancholy & pure madness I wanted to break down & cry but I had forgotten how & I truly mean it when I say that I’ve forgotten how my love.. an allotment of trauma can do that to a person
life never gave me a reason to live for, but I still stuck around I stuck around, dragging my aching soul wherever her body took her I never had anything but hope the dangerous kind of it, the raring one & I had cut deep into my skin many times looking for something to live for, anything.. & there was always nothing, until tonight
my captor.. my raring lady hope, I rotted in her dungeon & tonight, I wanted out more than anything.. I wanted out but I knew the only way out was to stop believing & let go
& I let go..
I started to write my last letter.. & she was the swan song
with my last spoken syllable, I watched her burn my lady hope.. caught in flames ashes to ashes, dust to dust, she is no longer raring I couldn’t believe in anything beyond this dark hollow night & with that horrid thought, I was finally emancipated.. finally free & long were gone the shackles of my humanity
1112
this time nothing held me back, no doubts & no second thoughts.. I cut my trembling wrists.. & they rained on me with that crimson nectar they couldn’t keep in their cries, they wept & you could hear the pain in their voices cracking.. & I was sorry
but I couldn’t say it
my shaking hands only reminded me of the steadiness that I had lost
for the first time, I had to look death straight in the eyes & in his rueful sunken eyes I saw his writhing soul staring back at me.. & as he extended his torrid grip my way.. my gaze locked onto his.. & I let out an impetuous yell
that soul was not death.. it was my own reflection that writhing girl.. stared back at me with the most pensive look I’ve ever witnessed she was filled with enormous rage.. & infinite beauty she was.. mad & angry, at the world & at me.. but most of all I saw she wasn’t done I saw her lamenting heart drenched in ink.. & in that moment.. I knew she was a poet & I knew there was no way on earth that song was even close to being finished.. for the first time the blood dripping down my wrists was forming into words that told me secrets the world couldn’t keep & I found love, where it wasn’t supposed to be.. it was in my fucking veins that crimson nectar.. cracked gaps in whatever I knew once as reality & opened up portals to other worlds.. only then was the curse broken.. & only then did I find my pursuit or rather, made one of myself
with every beat.. my heart kept dripping more ink onto that page
the novelty setting in that experience the one that spawned my beloved capsules whom have become my poetry & prose my never-ending suicide-note that moment, I cared about creatures & lands that lived on paper more than life itself they were the essence of everything I had cherished & loved they were my twin flame’s incarnate.. they kept me breathing for a little while longer & left me.. wanting more & at the end of each one, I wondered.. about where else I could open up my portals to the minds of other authors & writers that walk the same earth as me, that carry as much raging beauty in them as I do.. & my wonders.. taught me how
it took me death, to want life
& the mad poet was on the loose..
Chapter 6
— February of 2019 —
I found many of these gaps since I started looking.. & they’ve succeeded in buying me more days to live as I had expected of them.. that was the happy part & their departure was the sad one.. because ultimately.. like everything else they had to say goodbye.. when I flipped to the last page of the novel & watched the credits roll at the end of the film they left me again.. all alone.. carrying their secrets with me they specifically wrote my name in their dying will to have their legacy it was for me to keep them living every word that they spoke to me & their universes that swarmed my entity & took my soul hostage.. I had the choice of keeping them alive, & I chose them & the moment I uttered my goodbyes at the last screen-cap & page I had once again sold my soul to that pursuit & let out a cry that was never final.. & for the first time in what seemed like a long while I actually felt like I wanted to live..
bleed me dry
— The 11th of March, 2019 —
it’s 2 minutes till sunset.. the sun can’t protect me now; her wishes are fading away & I’m not going to be alone tonight the demonic presence of depression that I’ve oddly grown so accustomed to was unleashed about an hour ago & he’s not going to be easy on me tonight his birth.. started with the sight of my decaying passion it submerges me in terror the sight of my capsules crushed on the floor with their contents dissolving he took it too far.. he pushed me down on the bathroom floor put a razor in my right hand & pointed at my veins on the other he wanted me to stop suffering because he was dying too he loved me enough.. to give me an out a wilted love but I learnt to love back because that bastard is never going to leave me & I’m so used to him right now that the pain has become just a muffled scream that dies in my pillow
Chapter 7
— Twelve hours ago —
I woke up to the sun’s daily wishes & she wished me the greatest morning I gasped out of happiness seeing yesterday’s sharp thorns disintegrate in her light her sunlight.. held me close in his arms singing me a lullaby I knew so well & it felt like heaven I found her newly gifted presents lying around my bed — music, poetry, an adventure & another philosophy.. she birthed me a cure for the mad, a song for the sane & lit fires in my insides.. I started writing again, about those infamous capsules the fireplace.. the wonders & peace.. & the one where the clock turns 12 past 11 & so many more.. they were all pieces of the same puzzle for me to collect them & create a picture of my own they loved me.. like truly & we held each-other dearly they sang me a song I danced to it & my heartbeat synced in with their rhythm my god, I found life in them my past ones & all the ones I dream of visiting next they were my passion, my lust for life they kept me alive & you know they moved me authors, writers & fictional characters knew me more than my friends ever did but God.. she came so close I wanted someone to..
Chapter 8
I’m not happy I tasted happiness, in small doses you, to name one of them but never the real thing.. & as I’ve written thousands of times before it was enough taste for me to start an aching & for that.. I deemed myself the lovelorn poet..
you say you love me.. but tell me this, isn’t love supposed to make us happy? if that is it.. I might’ve not loved you at all & you surely.. never loved me the right way
I crave to see someone.. & be seen by them for who we are as stardust incarnated but to find love in all this chaos.. & for it to make sense in this messed-up world we live in for a face I haven’t known yet, to look so familiar just like hers did when I first met her.. that kind of thing doesn’t happen very often.. it seems so because how can a person win the lottery twice?
& frankly my dear, lately.. I’ve been doubting the possibility of true love actually existing for me because to be loved for my saddest prose & happiest poems.. & all that has led to their creation from beginning to end to fathom someone’s philosophies & art & them fathoming mine that kind of adoration.. I’m not so sure could exist beyond my own heart because I’ve given mine to so many strangers that never gave it back, & my love got scattered all over the place.. in the wrong hands, with the wrong crowd & trust me.. I wanted to go out there, find it & take it back but it was far too lost & that’s why I’m sitting here.. missing a part of my heart
I have an unfinished poem sitting in my notes for somebody I haven’t met yet
show me what could exist outside of Plato’s Cave
Chapter 9
I’m not okay, but that’s okay because I’m a poet & poets aren’t supposed to be happy
All I loved, I loved alone —Edgar Allan Poe
Chapter 10
I taught myself not to love but I never used that skill even though I know it too well but not in a million years I would
because I’m a poet.. therefore, I must love I could not spin that story or deviate my purpose.. it was in my source code.. & it was an instinct because I saw how love can be freeing.. how love can make your heart beat miles a minute & make you hear the stars sigh in unison..
Chapter 11
death.. taught me how to love life & all that could exist in-between them; the weaknesses soaking in our blood & tears.. the occult hidden in our adventures & the adrenaline fiends the narratives behind our moans & screams of joy.. they were all my poison of choice
& poison killed me repetitively.. I kept dying & living & each time I came back I came back a madder poet
I was a poet, wanting to love.. all whom have bled & wept & were never loved wanting to obsess & welter in these desires of ours even when they scathed & singed my heart as harshly as midsummer nights on hell because even then.. loving them was the most merciful thing
considering that without them my life will no longer have any meaning to it..
to my dearest, the goddesses of my capsules & my fellow raring writers you took me in & I turned you into poetry because you were my saviors & my favorite muse.. & I refused to let our joy or suffering be in vain I always thought of you as my fireplace the wonders that brought me peace.. & the only ones who asked for my love & loved me back & if I ever knew anything at all, it is that the unloved will always love each-other..
yours always,
reem
the mad poet
reading this masterpiece again and again💜💜💜💜💜