She said "If we're being real"

I thought "If that's the case then let's cut to the chase,
When I took a look past your book and at your face I realized I've been running in place for two years straight, I began imagining how your lips taste and a life graced by your embrace,

My mind became a fain subject to your ordain, and for a moment my loneliness was slain, my heart's unrest began to wane, my body wanted to approach and my mind couldn't refrain but you're out of my league so I could run this lane and strain to chase your shadow all day and never gain terrain,

I'm sick of your profile picture's capacity to enthrall and make my heart stall, I share posts while thinking of you, oddly you manage to like them all, I end up in my head pushing for a slow crawl, searching the floors of my mind for a lull in the words that rise and fall, words and thoughts that intensify my psyche's appall, I've been in there for weeks at a time trying to scream over the walls, sadly they're too tall for friends and family to hear my call,

And god how I want to blame you for my loneliness, for ignoring my request to visit my mind as a guest, why you refused is anyone's guess, yet this question keeps me from getting any rest, but deep down I know I wouldn't be good enough even at my best"

Of course, I'd never have the courage to speak this much in front of her.

The mind fills empty potential with ferocious fantastic notions noting naive possibility outside of future's foreboding

But my image is quickly corroding, time's caustic nature instigating my painting's eroding and tainting the dreams I've been toting

My illusive fantasy simply couldn't be, a fairly farce future that reality couldn't see, but I pressed for it so impolitely, now it revisits me nightly

I know it's rightly dangerous thinking of things that might be but they push they're way inside me slightly slipping and sinking into my mind despite me fighting and frightfully trying to hold on tightly,

Now I permanently face the incessant resurrection of my psyche's insurrection to reality's lackluster perception of this painting's perfection

I never should have pursued this crude gesture I painted of her ****, not of her body but of her thoughts, though maybe just as lewd, I expected them to be profound and without interlude but these are facts of existence the universe didn't include

I wrongly thought of her as a partner for gleaning the meaning of particles and their organized convening to allow the formation of conscious beings

But she already found her specific god of speculation, he has an appropriate deprecation of false idolization, I thought it was simply healthy appreciation, sadly after an eternity of intense anticipation I was met with the realization that she couldn't be the deity of my imagination, she couldn't understand my late night cogitation, much less save me from my suicide ideation,

No one could,
No one can,
And it would be selfish for me to wish this loneliness on another soul, for me to expect anyone to fill that role.

What if she was beyond your wintery soul with her warm hair of golden blonde?

I thought you were logical, where has your common sense gone? If she barely realized you were alive could you really share a bond?

What if she never saw your lives intertwined inside her mind and she was simply being kind when she replied?

What then? Would you let go of her soft inviting soul? Would you quit this game and fold, accept that this is getting old and set out for another goal?

Or you could truly pursue this, I mean what's the point of going through this? You act so ruthless yet you avoid messaging her because you're clueless and afraid that you'll miss.

Sitting inside your head instead because you're worried she'll leave you on read, laying and holding your breath as you dread the day she finds comfort in another's bed.

You twist these thoughts like they're going to pop off, you avoid talking so that people think you're not soft, you're lost and if you can't see that you're a lost cause.

Just follow through and accept what you decide to do, stop being so blue and jot the thoughts that this experience imbues. Go for it or don't, you can't lose

You're the condition to my malicious mission,
The vulnerable variables subject to my evil intention,
The unknowing lab rats of my malignant invention,
The objects of my intensely pestilent tension,

Stuck in your habitual greed
Stuck craving things you don't need
For this many will starve despite having plenty of seed,

In spite of your delusions of grandeur you're no more heaven worthy than an ant,
You want heaven? You want to ascend? Too bad, you can't,
So feel free to end your little chant

My message was tainted by the picture your pathetic minds painted,
You think I'm proud of what I created? Wow your egos are inflated,
little do you know you're actually hated,
and the afterlife is just the pain of existence perpetuated with all shades of happiness faded,

Slathered in sin
If there was a heaven none of you would make it in,
Your toxin will remain in your coffin with your rotting skin

Made weak and divided by barriers I provided
Dumb and broken by travesty I invited
Wrong by nature and I've ensured your inferiority won't be righted

Your happiness is permanently temporary,
Your minds are filled with false clarity and your creation wasn't the product of charity,

It was entertainment.

I write too often while thinking of you

It's late, everyone's asleep and my confidence is beginning to bate,
it feels like I've been awake for weeks straight, I can't extricate this state of distrait, everything is becoming harder to assimilate and I can barely differentiate reality from the reversed universe that my mind manipulates and creates,
My heart palpitates, my thoughts tumultuate and my lungs refuse to inflate under this weight as I begin to dissociate
What's great about my universe is that you can honestly relate,

Others understand in this mystic fantasy land,
There life isn't so bland, our existence was planned and best of all you and I roam hand in hand obeying your preferred god's demand,

There I'm not terrified that I will die with the afterlife unverified, the answers to my questions are clarified and my smile isn't forced or pried but instead a happiness that's justified,

There I have a perilous quest to distract me from the distress of the universe's careless emptiness, my feelings abide my behest and my mind doesn't remind me of my pointlessness,
Regardless I'd be happy nonetheless if I could leave all the rest just to retain your caress.

10-30-18