Psychic Schism

The barriers rise up once more. I do not care. No one can be trusted, for they can all leave at any given time. Suffice it to say that my immediate family will relocate to another country, and that I will not be going with them. I cannot trust anyone again. I am penniless, and I will throw myself into my work to stand on my own. But never again will I allow anyone else to wound me so deeply. Call me cold, call me uncaring, but my reasons for being these things are clear only to my eyes. I have no wish to see anyone, and I will brood and contemplate my bleak future alone in my room. I cannot bear to see my shattered dreams cut my heart so. It is stupid. I have always been the unwanted child, the strange boy who speaks of things no one can really understand. I will sit and allow the night winds to caress me, for nature is the only entity who has not hurt me. Even as I cradle my head in my hands, and weep an endless flood for my mortal pain, her beauty surrounds me, soothing me. I was stupid to have trusted. When I first came to my mum, I had nightmares. I didn't tell anyone, not even the social worker whose perfumed scent I can still remember. I only spoke of these with Esther, before she too, faded away into obscurity. Is it too much to hope, that someday...I can have someone who loves me without leaving me when I am at my weakest? I abhor weakness. But I am mortal, after all, and therefore naturally needy. It doesn't matter. These crystal drops that silver my fingers, they cannot change what will be. I am afraid. J, when I was homeless three years ago...you came to my aid. I need you now, and your promise to me has never been so clear. "I will never leave you." Did you mean it? Or were you just like everyone else? My tears will not stop, and I know that I will cry again for many nights to come. I kick myself for allowing a false sense of security to lull me into letting my defenses down. I should have saved some money, scrimped and saved. I cannot survive. Inadequacy leaves such a bitter taste in my mouth. I will not forsake the night as I have been forsaken. If the tears fall, at least they will fall in an admirable imitation of the sparkling stars, and I will lie in the palm of night as one of her children. I see no reason why I cannot push everyone away before they leave me. I feel cold as I write these words, but the tears do not cease. Foolish dreams I once had. All dust now. I wander the halls of shadow again, but fear has ceased to burn within my breast, and all that remains is cold numbness. I believe I will feel nothing at all once these rivers of tears run dry.