4. Write About The Ugliest Thing A Human Being Can Do. (From This Pinterest Post.)
4. Write about the ugliest thing a human being can do. (From this Pinterest post.)
Sink your fingers into someone’s thorax. Deeper. Deeper. Till you reach that ever-beating muscle. Rip it out (really feel all those blood vessels ripping), throw it on the ground and stomp on it till it is a mess of blood and veins and muscles and cartilage. Apparently the pain from heartbreak can be felt as a physical ache. That’s what it feels like when a mother cuts off her kid’s airflow, her longer, stronger fingers circling around the trachea and pressing down like it’s a gripper, not a life. When a spouse restrains another to the bed and their legs kick around for some chance at freedom. When you realise that all that pleading and begging and forgiving brought you nothing but the relentless thump thump thump of your heart against your chest, threatening to burst out of your ribs like some kind of bubbling volcano of obscenities.
All bad things come with the intent to shatter a heart irrevocably. And that determination to proceed is what ultimately renders it ugly. It’s like battery acid that leaks onto the tips of your fingers, damaging the skin yet falling deeper and deeper to permanently render your fingers incapable of feeling or moving. Maybe one could thus argue that the ugliest thing to come out of humanity is the cycle of treating the heart like a toy.
More Posts from Mesogleanmusings and Others
One should not look at beauty as something to be hated. Rather, it is worth admiring for the moments that it is ephemerally existing.
– MesogleanMusings, 2024
See those salacious eyes, Luring me in one more time. When he cried I felt it inside, A serenade for me to lose my mind.
So the boy who cried wolf, Kept wailing for more. And like a fool, I kept Answering him till the day he left.
Do you dislike me?
Is the question that won’t stop pervading my heart. My senses. My rationality. Slowly disintegrating my internal defenses.
Stoic. That’s what I used to think I was. But I don’t know how I can appear that way. Whenever my gaze settles on you, I can feel all sense of logic start to decay.
I might seem like a pervert, But I’ve been looking at you. No matter how many times I try to find fault, I end up falling deeper – what a fool.
I don’t have time for a relationship.
There’s so many, too many Barriers in the way. But my thoughts of you, of us, They seem to hold far too much sway.
You’re so out of my league, But still, my delusional mind, Can’t help but imagine what it’d be like To have our fingers intertwined.
You and I can’t manage. Won’t manage. We won’t have any time.
What am I saying? Why do I assume you’ll say ‘yes?’ It’s unreciprocated, where I know you are for whom I pine.
I’m hanging on your every word. And I know this isn’t great or healthy. But I keep thinking about you, And it turns my legs into jelly.
After a year of thinking, Of squirming, All this aching and burning. I’m finally readily admitting.
I’m absolutely smitten with you.
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I write to process my very insular life. Had some free time so I thought I would invest it for the sake of sanity.• 19 • College Student •PFP: @morxwar
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