Muse 100: The Blame Game

found via weheartit

The night I died, I felt my eyes pushed to a close by a pair of warm hands and wanted to resist it. I didn't want the cold to take me, but death wasn't a choice. Then there was a sudden exhale and I knew I was no longer the same, like my body had breathed me out, birthed me out after all the pain I had endured. I came face to face with a light streaming through several doors, but the room itself was dark, only illuminated and hinted towards the outside world. I wandered towards the light, and found the doors locked. As I shook the handle, a voice echoed through the small room.

You cannot go outside.

I frowned. Who are you to tell me what do to? And I realized that this was God speaking, the same God that allowed evil, disasters, sickness, death and sorrow. I looked up, but he wasn't there. You would throw people out of your home because they won't chose you. I continued to search the ceiling, but he wasn't there, not even a voice box. If he was the light, then I could make do with the dark. Of course, he heard the voices in my head, and whispered in return. He did not have to whisper, his voice was strong and loud regardless. 

I am only giving you what you have chosen all along. 

A world without me, a world to stay as what you know, with me outside.

Muse 89: Effy

she was this girl i enived, the one who i thought could show me exactly how great it is to be alone without needing anyone. and then reality set in, into me and into her, and i realized that deep down to the core, we were just souls made of the same stuff. we were scared of being alone. we were scared of finding someone who we loved and in the end, didn't want us at all. we wore the strongest masks because we have the weakest insides. you see that beautiful house over there on the block? the curtains are closed and the dust has settled. and inside, everything is gone because the people have moved out.

Muse 65: Perfect

found via ssense

I think, he said, you're perfect regardless. Well, that's what I heard him say in my mind but in actuality, I'm sure the spoken words never come close to my imagination. In the recess of my mind, everything he said was perfect because everything he did matched the prince charming I imagined to be. It was so hard to keep reality separate from fiction, so hard when all I wanted was everything to be perfect. Perfection has never been so disappointing; it was like when I discovered my blood wasn't blue, but red. I expected a wild blue sea to consume me when it all flowed out of those blue veins, but instead, I drowned in reality.