So we met for the first time at least one hundred times now. What are we supposed to do; fall in love? You fell in my pool and I fell in your pool and we're drowning. Death due us part: exactly! You can never take this love home, baby. There is always way too many issues and way too many tissues that are involved. Loving you feels like ants crawling in my veins, taunting me with the sting. Loving you feels like sitting under a grey cloud, dry. Love between us is working but it's lurking to make a change that will never let us take it home and settle. What if we take it home and it works you ask.. Little task, we just love. One of us dies first, probably you cause I'm aware. Then I'm alone, no clone, and there is no love for me to share. I spent half my life loving one person so much that I risked everything and ignored everyone just to bring it home; now you're dead. Who do I have? Love is a selfish, little lust if you ask me. Good luck bringing your love home. Good luck being immortal, you'll need it.

It’s clear to me now
Why some burdened men and women
Try to lose themselves

Before I saw no intent
For drowning oneself in the sticky entrapment of alcohol
For burning away one’s heart and one’s fingertips
For vivisecting the pain and stopping the pulse of the problem
For inhaling the stench of despair and smokey desires
For wrapping oneself in the poison arms of another, if only for a night,
As a desperate attempt to seek comfort and affection

Not that I am not loved
For I know how much is given up for me
I know how much is sacrificed that I may walk the paths of my peers
If only to saturate the steps as a shadow

Not that I am a burden
Of this I am also made sure
‘Till the sleeping guardian of days awakens and sends his horsemen unto the earth-
I could be told that I am loved and I am treasured
I could be told
Yes, told

Temptation was a distant planet
Floating in the same path as I, yet, too far for concern and too different for comparison
But yet
It seems that I am even unsure of the physics of this world
And some unseen force that I should have accounted for (and failed)
****** me into its many tearing, sharp moons and blazing, sarcastic stars
Until I found myself composed of their same dust

Sometimes I think that I am disadvantaged by love
That because I am nurtured and privileged to some recognizable degree
I have no excuses
That because I can venture the haven of my room and come back
With all of my bones intact
And all of the neurons firing
I have no excuse for physical pain of the embodiment of my heart
That because I am told, “I love you”
Everyday
An automatic response
I have no excuse for the damp, echoing void I feel
That perhaps is the lack thereof
If someone would just hit me…

But I must haul myself across the fields
And I must carry myself onwards
Yanking on the lifeless pieces dragging behind
Because to fall into false help and lying love
Until two years time-
Or, worse yet,
To be ungrateful
Is worse than the weight of bearing all and being carried
Clueless, obtuse, waste
When they already suffer enough

I only feel the kindling of warmth when I bring the fire to others
But even then
Daddy locks Prometheus up
Because somehow, the little brat even managed to ***** that up

And now I’ve gone and wasted an hour
Thrown away the precious gift of time
For writing this spineless catharsis of complain
When I should be thanking
As I’m working,
Studying,
Reading,
Mending,
Anything but creating this raging text of teenage angst and ill-excuse

I only encourage myself when I fall back into the white riverbeds begging me to fill them with life
It’s no wonder that when I picture myself happy
My queen and I reside miles past the familiar horizons
Alone in an uncharted temperate road that stretches
On and on
Taking me forever away

Two more years

Please don't take me for granite,
     despite my sometimes polished surface.
My strength isn't a constant.
I must bend to the pressures
     of sorrow and loss.

Please don't take me for granite,
     I am not cold to the touch.
I am not resistant to the
     stains of memory.
Granted, we both have failing points.