I'm throwing my life away
But I can't tell if I'm the only one who doesn't care
Or the only one who does
And maybe killing myself would be more proficient
Than this torment I put myself through
But where would be the fun in that?
I am trying to find meaning in your words
Which used to be so easy for me
But all I can find is white noise
Because it seems like nothing we say
Is important anymore.
I choose my letters too carefully
To hide what I feel
And I seek for someone who knows
When I'm hiding my heart
I thought that could be you
I guess we all lie sometimes.
They say that love is meaningless
They say that it is everything
They say it hurts
They say it heals
They say it like they know.
But what do they know about love, really?
Do they see it the way I do?
Do they recognize the pure innocence of the young;
And how they look at everything with wonder,
Like a tea-spoon
Do they feel the sinking feeling of your stomach hitting the bottom of the ground
Every single time I see your eyes?
And how it hurts to see them in my dreams.
Do they realize that I'm stronger than the average person
Because my heart is so big I must protect it;
From the control that you have over my life?
Do they understand that I am weak and will rely on you to give me hope
Because my smile will fade and only you can bring it back?
Do they see that I believe not in romance but in love;
And that there is just one person out there for all.
And I can tell from the moment we meet?
Do they hear the song I sing for someone to love the way I do;
Where your heart becomes filled with the hopes and desires
Not of me but everyone else?
Do they feel the call I make from deep within my soul
To wake one day and be half of a whole
And do so everyday until I'm old?
Do they contemplate the existence of life without love;
And come to the same conclusion,
That life without love is no life at all.
Do they wonder why I am a repellent
To all things that my body and mind pray for
Silently as I lie in the meadows of thought?
My whole life, everything I do;
It revolves around you,
And you keep changing,
You always have nice hands
You continuously move and shift through dimensions
While I stay here waiting for your vowel
Not changing at all except for the growing hole only you can fill.
I have not met you properly,
Each time it someone else who wears your mask
I long for the constellations of your skin
To brush the earth of mine
And make new starts and galaxies
That only we can wonder
I am waiting on a drum stool
That replays the pounding of my heart
Full with love and devotion
But no where to place it
For you have not arrived.
They say they understand love but they do not understand at all.
Love consumes you and controls your thoughts
Till you are absolutely nothing but love.
I am love,
with no one loving
To give my love a meaning.
Come and find me
Be my swan.
Your mind's eye is turned inward
Looking at a distorted image of yourself
Droplets of imagination
Falling into your pool of thought
Static brain ripples
Crashing against the sides
Of your mental boundaries
Those self created boundaries of
Exposing your ignorance
Standing outside the walls of your mind
I see the real you
Through nothing more than a peep hole
Looking deeply into your exposed soul
All the while you stare judgmentally
At your minds eye image of yourself
I can see your light
The part of you that is diamond like in clarity
And until you awake
With full realization
I am alone
Foggy black & white contusions appear in my nightmares
& on my wrists when I awaken;
some appear to be visions of you when you were young
& so much more hopeful
(or perhaps it is I?).
You always look so much more appealing
late in the evening
after I’ve already bid my inhibitions adieu.
But even when you creep across the threshold of my apartment,
there is nothing I can do to truly bring you close.
I’ve spent weeks dumping bottles of liquid down my throat &
into my lungs, but
none of these bottles have Labels;
You had a label, such as this;
branding you across your ever-furrowed brow.
Indeed, months have past since we touched at all,
yet in the moments when we converse,
I seek nothing but your breath on my neck, singing,
You & I
are one in the same.
& as we both sink further into the pits of our own self-imposed darkness,
we seek light in the dimming pools of each others’ eyes.
Your smirk is full of cynicism & regret,
but what of your grin?
It brings nothing but tidings of ways to rip me to shreds
I long for the throbbing sensation of pain after an altercation with my past demons has occurred;
at least it would be familiar company,
consistent & vivid in its haunting cackling.
When I feel as though I’ve sunk too low,
I find rest in searching the depths & finding you there
fighting your own demons.
Sometimes we let ours rip apart each other’s,
so that we can have nights without them
& with each other, instead.
Those nights smell so sweetly of the incense & essence of
two peoples’ pain being placed on a bedside table,
& lighting the evening of their indiscretions
(she grits her teeth & he sobs into her décolletage).
It hums gently,
careful not to interrupt the façade of happiness in numbness they share.
But it is always there,
There so that it may continue to entangle them;
not in love
or even admiration,
but in the spirit of their willingness to delude themselves.
& that is the most binding agent of all
"He that made them at the beginning made them male and female, & said,
‘For this cause shall a man leave father and mother and shall
to his wife, and the two shall be one flesh.
Therefore they are no more two,
but one flesh.
What therefore God hath joined together,
let not man put asunder.'”
I haven’t been able to sleep for the past couple of nights,
something I wish that could just be classified as a typical case of insomnia.
But I know the reason for my wandering, rambling mind
extends far beyond a simple medical diagnosis.
As I lay awake tossing and turning I've deduced that I have two possibilities to explain
my current misfortune.
My first option is that I’m nearing the brink of insanity -
which I’m trying to convince myself is true-
because I don’t think I could come to terms with the other reason.
And yet there’s no evading it.
Every time I close my eyes, I see her face and inadvertently find myself submerged in her perfection. This is then accompanied by a pitiful pang of longing.
The truth is, I didn’t come for her.
It was never about her.
In fact, right before I got myself into this mess I had constructed a mental compilation of things I wouldn’t allow myself to do.
I had reassured myself with a definitive firmness that if I broke her heart, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.
Of course, that was when I still could sleep.
That was before I developed a stupid conscience.
That was before everything changed.
And now I’m running out of options and running out of time.