Life As A Writer

Michael Daaboul. 26 y/o from Australia/Melbourne. Digital Designer & Creative Writer.

WHEN A COMFORTING LIE NO LONGER COMFORTS
AND THE TRUTH IS NO LONGER BURIED
EMOTIONS RISE TO THE FRAGILE SURFACE
DROWNING THE HEART AND MIND WITH SADNESS

DISAPPOINTED WITH WHAT COULD NOT REMAIN
AND WITH A WEAKNESS THE COULD NOT DEFEND
REJECTION FLOWS FROM TAINTED TRUTHS
THAT HOUSED AND FED A COMFORTING LIE

WHAT LIES BENEATH THE PAINTED SURFACE
WILL SHOW AS IT’S WEATHERED AWAY
SO A COMFORTING LIE CAN ONLY HARBOUR
AS LONG AS THE TRUTH IS SET TO SAIL

Charles Daaboul

Susie’s Sorrow

The curtain’s drawn on a dark, dusty room
That once was alive with the sound of voices
But when one voice chocked and never retuned
What lived and thrived had become an echo

An echo that drifts and never fades away
Resurfacing as a reminder of what once was
Where the memories explode with each drop of rain
And where the heart lingers and yearns for closure

What perished is gone yet its presence is here
Disembodied and robbed of what it was owed
To be here for today and to have a tomorrow
But where tomorrow will be one less reason to smile

One reason less for one imprisoned soul
That befriends a pillow that once rested and warmed
The one that remains but will never grow old
Forever to be wept for it is Susie’s sorrow

Written by Charles Daaboul

An emptiness now resides, that no matter what I do, I cannot seem to fill. It’s a constant void that reminds me of the experiences that I will never share with you again, the happy memories that we will never make. I know it’s goodbye, but I don’t want to accept it, because if I do then I know that I have truly lost you. For now, it’s just easier to pretend that I still have you and that I am still everything to you … even though it’s pretend.
Excerpt from An Unread Letter By Charles Daaboul
Those feelings that you once had, those words that you once spoke, will no longer be felt or said to me by you. And it’s sad, so damn sad, because I still love you and wish that my bleeding heart will be healed by your hands.
Excerpt from An Unread Letter By Charles Daaboul
I’m sorry that I didn’t do enough, but I want you to know that each day hurts without you. I feel you fading away from my mind, but not from my heart. My heart won’t let you go and it holds on to you in hope that you will come back to me and we can start again. But you are gone, you are truly gone.
Excerpt from An Unread Letter By Charles Daaboul
I never gave you the commitment that you deserved. In protecting myself I kept you at a distance and pushed you too far away. These words still linger in my mind, “Once upon a time you used to like hearing from me. You used to like my long messages and my mundane talkative crap. Then something changed. You no longer enjoyed my ramblings. You lived happily ever after and I pondered why you never showed me how much you really loved me.”
Excerpt from An Unread Letter By Charles Daaboul
Your face used to glow at the first thought of me. Even when I was not around, just knowing that you were going to see me made the day worthwhile and gave you something to look forward to. When I would finally arrive at your doorstep, your smile would say it all and your eyes would light up. How I miss that so much. Yet the last memory I have of you is one deflated and cold, as if I never meant anything to you. You couldn’t even look at me as I walked away.
Excerpt from An Unread Letter By Charles Daaboul
You mean a lot to me and I miss you so much. You make everything pleasurable and nice … and sparkly, glittery, shimmery and sickeningly colourful like a Disney movie. I hope that one day I can make you as happy as you have made me.
Excerpt from An Unread Letter By Charles Daaboul
Do you remember when we used to lay down together and you used to stare me in the eyes? You would tell me, “For the first time in my life, I am happy”, and I would look at you and smile. I never appreciated those words until you were gone. I never acknowledged what that meant to you. For one moment in time, when I held you in my arms, you were at peace and didn’t want to be anywhere else. I took that for granted.
Excerpt from An Unread Letter By Charles Daaboul
Have you heard them say that the dead don’t feel?
It’s not true
I don’t have any senses and I still feel
It tears me apart …
I will never forget
The hurt you gave with no regret.
Excerpt from Crimson Deeds By Charles Daaboul
Have you heard them say that the dead don’t bleed?
It’s not true
I don’t have a heartbeat and I still bleed
I’m empty inside …
I linger and yearn
For happiness to return.
Excerpt from Crimson Deeds By Charles Daaboul
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