What Is Agony?
In category This Is Where I Pretend I Can Write! on 29 Apr 2006 @ 12:09 pm
January 20th, MMIII. Kinda really bad. I reworked it some so that it's not so bad. So that it flows better and everything. When I first wrote it I was in a bad place and it was really too wordy and the structure was off. So yeah, I tried to fix that some but there was only so much I could do. Ahh well. At least it's better. I'll fiddle with it some more later.
It's really interesting because in this written thingie I can see some of my style being born, what with all the dashes and all. Now they're sorta changed around so that it's commas instead. And I tend to be more succinct and really focused on imagery. I like to think I've refined my stlye. But yeah, the premise is here.
Agony. It's that slow slow death that never really starts and never really seems to end. It's the tears that never want to come out but hold-pricking your eyes. It's that one single solitary tear squeezed out, a choking breath, teasing you as it rolls down your face. . .the relief of it--and knowing that that is the extent. That is Agony.
Agony is knowing that only sheer will power keeps you from those sharp shiny things that glint diamondlike in the light. It is not wanting to hurt yourself but needing it--everly desperately so. It is knowing that feeling the sting of the blade is where you don't want to be but where you know need to be. Agony is the moments between the cuts, when all your thoughts are raging, pushing you--pulling you-- further into the Great Below.
Agony is that one person who can save you from it all but who you can't talk to,who can't hold you, weather the storm with you, because they're too far away. . . It is knowing that you're being reduced to this mess and the one person who can save you from yourself is no where near.
It is the golden drops of water--so precious-- that slip through your fingers and trying to cup and catch that water as it falls through your fingers because you just hope that maybe you can hold them--keep them. . .even though deep down you know you can't.
It is the rouge rose that wilts and fades and falls away days too soon.
It is a girl screaming silence, ripping her hair out, raking her nails across her skin.
Agony is being reduced to Pain to make it better.
That is Agony.
It's really interesting because in this written thingie I can see some of my style being born, what with all the dashes and all. Now they're sorta changed around so that it's commas instead. And I tend to be more succinct and really focused on imagery. I like to think I've refined my stlye. But yeah, the premise is here.
Agony. It's that slow slow death that never really starts and never really seems to end. It's the tears that never want to come out but hold-pricking your eyes. It's that one single solitary tear squeezed out, a choking breath, teasing you as it rolls down your face. . .the relief of it--and knowing that that is the extent. That is Agony.
Agony is knowing that only sheer will power keeps you from those sharp shiny things that glint diamondlike in the light. It is not wanting to hurt yourself but needing it--everly desperately so. It is knowing that feeling the sting of the blade is where you don't want to be but where you know need to be. Agony is the moments between the cuts, when all your thoughts are raging, pushing you--pulling you-- further into the Great Below.
Agony is that one person who can save you from it all but who you can't talk to,who can't hold you, weather the storm with you, because they're too far away. . . It is knowing that you're being reduced to this mess and the one person who can save you from yourself is no where near.
It is the golden drops of water--so precious-- that slip through your fingers and trying to cup and catch that water as it falls through your fingers because you just hope that maybe you can hold them--keep them. . .even though deep down you know you can't.
It is the rouge rose that wilts and fades and falls away days too soon.
It is a girl screaming silence, ripping her hair out, raking her nails across her skin.
Agony is being reduced to Pain to make it better.
That is Agony.
