You'll meet her.

                    She's very pretty,

even though sometimes
                                              
she's very sad for many days at a time.

You'll see.

When she smiles,
      
                     you'll love her.

According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with 4 arms, 4 legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves. And when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other's sight, as I may say, even for a moment...

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

You say I deserve better,
but I feel like you mean
I don't deserve you.

In the corner of the dark room,
I lay there.
Writhing in emotional pain,
I am paralyzed.
I feel like night has taken over
all of my light.
Is there any good left?
                                                           ­   
                                                             ­      Am I even alive?

The pills...
They tell you they work.
That they will make you better.
And I suppose uncomfortably numb
is better than the agony.

But I can't live this way.
Not when I know how I use to be

Bright.
          Shiny.
                  Young.
           ­                 Cheerful.

A loving soul turned

Dark.
        Lonely.
                   Broken.
                              Lethargic.