The Refined Art of Madness

A chronicle of young, troubled love.

Written in 2006, I would have only been about 15 years of age. This writing describes the nature of a more than two year long relationship centered around drug addiction, sex, and teenage inexperience. The separate "parts" were written at different times during the relationship.

Part I

(Conversing With the Devil)

 

"What's wrong with you?" She asked...

 

"A lot of things, or so I'm told…" I replied...

 

"That's you, always being sarcastic; everything's a f****n' joke isn't it?" She said…

 

…With a sort of end note that clarified the entire thing. I was a joke. And if not, what I said was. So I didn't say anything, so I didn't leave myself open for another cheap shot. I have a lot to say but nobodies listening, everybody's busy glistening, shining and shimmering in their lights glowing brightly slowly fading into the twilight that's becoming night and now the shadows get long. The truth gets perverse as opposed to just plain hurts…

 

She asked me a few minutes earlier, with a tear in her eye she said to me...

 

"What would I do without you?" She asked...

 

"I'm sure you would find something to do" I said...

 

"What? What do mean by that? She demanded...

 

...It always ended with a question, and me staring into empty glass eyes that saw nothing but their own reflection. Neglection, ways of paradoxical affection. Exceptions, here and there, now everywhere all at once along with acceptance. So was I sticking around for mellow dramatic silence and excitement or was waiting to leave, to be excused, but there was no excuse even though many times I tried...

 

"Are you just gonna sit there and look at me?" She asked, as her voice rose...

 

"Ya, I'm thinkin' bout it...? I replied with a slight nod...

 

...As the Q's and A's got shorter and shorter and relied more on body language with quick glances to the street and the coffee mugs, things sped up, the tempo went to a quick one two. Seating slouched and eyes vouched for the real truth that was looming around side by side with the cigarette smoke, teamed with knots in my throat, twitching itching failings at reaching out and cutting the hunger short of its fill, that hunger, insatiable, reliable...

 

Part II

 

(Disaffection)

 

… So we sat in silent conversation, hopeless thoughts of preservation, disaffect the affirmation of the after thought, it's amazing. A refined art of madness, psychosis, neurosis, same words for the same mistake, as your fingers rake into skin with a burning motive without restraint. Untamed visual, see the cycle of reuse, salvaging the abuse, what's your excuse?

Disaffect the affirmation of the after thought, it's amazing…

 

"How's life treating you?" they ask all too frequently…

 

"With interest." I reply…

 

F**k your question until it screams its own answer, blast through the rivalry, triviality of the unblessed fallacy, fragile personality in the wake of imperfection and its reality, justified fake of the becoming, now were happy…      

 

"Fu… fu… f**k you!" she says to me…

 

"No, f**k you" I reply…

 

Don't make me stand up, I'm calm and well mannered, neatly natured, nurtured with the slowest of response times, but I swear to an unjust god that I will cause pain without remedy; you'll cry guilty tears of filthy fears, no disease to match your cures…

 

"It's all over now, there's no need to cry" I said…

 

"Why isn't there a reason to cry?" she asked…

 

Because no one will be around to hear you…

 

Part III

 

"Compunction"

 

Now, you surrender to me

   You plea to me                guilty

In hopes that I'll spare the pain that needs to bubble up

Up to the surface to meet its new host

Now, you feel everything

   You say to me                 guilty

As it tears you apart inside and then you crawl back

To that hole you call a thought…

 

"Just One More"

 

But you're so beautiful in your denial

A desert flower

We are lovers caught up in the sun rise

We were

Single moments strung together

Moment by moment

"Never Say Never"

Shy hands holding tighter than ever

A heart beat pounding like drums

Like drums with tight leather

Breaking in the center

Hours summed up in a moment

A year cut down

Into the blink of an eye

A life time

That was never truly alive

Part IV

(Misery, Depravity, and Everything We Love)

...When the end finally came, the real poetry was spoken, and compunction ran rampant. Spending too much time in retrospect, I started to forget about what could lay in waiting around any bend in the dark ominous caverns that life can be. Her figure danced through the darkness at times, lit only by the small lantern she carried, glancing back just long enough to make that lantern burn brighter leading you deeper into the caves, and further from reason. All being left in question...

"So, how have you been? Still hanging around the coffee shops?" She asked me...      

"Not so much. Ive been busy." I said...

"Busy? With What?" She asked while seemingly mocking me...

...I didn't know how to answer the questions. They weren't very original, but then again I didn't have anything new to say either. I just smiled lightly and said little things to keep her interested, fiddling with my rings and twirling my cigarette. I left most in question, and she was no exception even after what we had been through. Like a moth to the flame...

"So just Same old stuff?" She asked...

"Yah, Yah, I've Uumm... Yah." I answered while stuttering...

"Are you seeing anyone?" She wanted to know ...

...Why did she always ask that? I knew that she just wanted know, but I wanted to know why. Why she laughed in the faces of those who loved her most, and shook hands with the ones who didn't care. But why did I care? Am I so miserable that I still ask, "how ya doin?". She didn't give a s**t and neither did I, yet we continued the questions and got answers we didn't like. Even though they were anticipated, we were hopeful, as we had always been...

"Do you remember last new years?" She asked hopefully...

"Yah, I do. That was uhm, Quite a holiday." I replied reluctantly...

"Yes it was." She added...

...It was time, and I treated it like I would never see her again... Drama... Somehow it came strolling up casually, sitting down right next to you while you look across and pick up your bags. Were we just trying to relive times that werent even that great? It was just so damn comfortable, sitting in all that s**t. Now I didnt know what to do...

...I think that's when I started looking to the future...

Author's Note

I wrote this when I was very young. Ive posted it here in hopes I would get some constructive feedback on my wiring style, even though the writing is very old.