Insomniacs spoken word number 2

Fractured memories, the dying light of a past that fractured the mind of a brilliant pupil.

The past that they can't remember, but haunts them to this day with words coupled with the stench of cigarettes and liquor.

A past that haunts the present. A past filled with anguish and pain, a past they can't remember nor escape, the definition of insanity.

Blank and shattered memories tear through their mind in the most mundane situations, and cause them to get lost in the midst of shopping at a mall.

The smallest things said in passing, such as "that's pathetic" causes the student in life to get angry, for reasons unknown to them while they're awake.

But at night, whether it be they can't sleep or in their dreams turned nightmares, it hits. They realize they're not living life anymore, they're just a passenger in a strangers body.

Everyone's so "proud" of them, including the ones who fractured the students mind to begin with.

So tell me, what does it mean to be proud of an emotionless husk of a person who was destined for greatness?

Tell me how it feels or makes sense to be proud of a person who you damaged enough for them to be so far gone that they can't find strength in the things that gave them life during the time you tore them down.

The solace they found in emotion, in music, in art, in everything that made the sane and happy is no longer there.

The scary part is? With their fractured mind, they can't remember when it began. The can't remember the last time they were honestly happy without stress. Can't remember what the root of this brutal mind f**k that's caused them to lose hope for an amazing future.

Was it you? The person who said they loved them and raised them as you drank away your life?

Or was it you, the person who told them they'd love them no matter what and proceeded to leave as if it all meant nothing?

Or was it the angel of light that is here in the present dealing with something she knows nothing of?

Tell me what it's like to be so "proud" of a person who can't think straight. Who can't sleep, who can't really feel anything anymore.

Does it feel the same as if they were alright? Or do you even realize the damage that is part of the student?

Fractured past, broken bits and pieces of a memory that they can't say is theirs. Pain that they've grown so accustomed to that it doesn't even hurt anymore. Numbness that was spread since God knows when.

Show me your pain. Show me your heartache. Show me your fractured and broken pieces, because through healing others will I heal myself.

It may not work, because it hasn't been, but as always, I'll be damned if I go down without a fight that rivals Lucifer and God.

With this broken memory and fractured past, I myself will create my future. And if I die before I get to that future, then it'll be okay. With my death, the false memories of happiness and hopes of a great future dies with me.