Jen, stop being so clingy.
People will leave eventually.

Me
          Apart from
                                You
is like
Sky
          Apart from
                                Ground
Religion
           Apart from
                                 Faith
Love
           Apart from
                               Life
Time
          Apart from
                               Now
My heart
           Apart from
                              My other half.

Profound, that he lost his sight.
He couldn't get the harmonies to blend quite right,
So he gave up seeing,
For music was the life and the fiber in his being.
He didn't need another soul
To change his note from half to whole,
For he had something else to hold,
And music couldn't make his spirit old.
So, he wed the chord, he played the piece,
And he dubbed musicality the worst disease.
Funny that a musical obsession
Would correspond with loneliness at life's discretion.
--Emily Rutledge

I wake up
Each morning,
Head to my closet,
And arm myself
With clothes
Thick as brick walls.
I rummage
Through various
Pairs of greeve-like
Pants
Looking for
The right foundation
On which I
Will build
The day's
Exoskeleton.
Fix my hair
Like the rest
Of mankind.
Hair that
Acts as the cloak
That ascribes me
To anonimity.
Before I leave
I put on the
Weight of
My outer person,
The one which
I have carefully
Built out of
Various yous
And none of me.
The skin
That I Have worn
To see my soul
Forlorn.
I go, parade myself
Like a sentinel
Emblazoned
With all the
Merits;
Look and behold
A hero that
Beckons to all who pass
A hero who
Hides all the dross
Of the Inside.
The inside
of whatever is left
Of my
Dying kingdom.
I go as a bastion
With jutted spears  
And sharpened pikes
Wounding those
Who advance
Whether in peace
Or in strife.
No, I will not
Let anyone
Through the gates
Of my starving
King.

All my life
I was being
Built as a
Stronghold.
Father, as a mason,
Taught me
That strength
Is measured
Through how
Much pressure
My structure
Can endure.
Mother, as an artisan,
Raised me
As a dam
That will not break.
Taught me
That my worth
Is measured in the
Volumes that I can keep.
Suffering be now
The mortar
That binds all my griefs
Together.
Pain, *****
Barricades
Around my thirsting
Prince.
Comrade,
Stay as a facade;
Hide the muck
That have accumulated
Throughout
The years.

Lover,
break me down.
Strip me of all
My armor,
Break down the walls.
Turn my spears
Into soft dandelion *****.
Wade through the tar
And see
Through the veil.
Unseam
All my scars;
Bleed me dry
Until you reach my core.
See me for
Who I am.
Witness the king
That I have
deprived.
Caress the face
Of the prince
That I have denied.
Satiate my famished spirit,
Oh, you, lover of my soul.

I don’t need a Romeo or Casanova.  If I need anyone, then I need someone who I can talk to.  Someone to share real life.   Someone who’s present, here, and not over there.  Someone who can be honest with me, and I with them.  Someone who’s got words worth listening to.  Someone, who’s interested in what I have to say.

Is it too much to ask for friendship first?  Does that sound unrealistic or old fashioned?  And why does the expectation of new relationships have to start out like a **** movie?  Why can’t men be friends with women instead of wanting pieces of their body first?  I’m a person, with feelings, hopes and plans, not an item of lust.

Why do women fall in the trap of wanting to find a man who'll provide everything, make them happier than they've ever been before?   A man like that can't be found.  A man is human, not a mystic angel.  He doesn’t exist to make a woman find happiness.

On the day she finds he contains no magic to elevate her emotions into happy ever after, and he discovers she not got much to lust for, the only thing left will be - friendship.  So what is left if friendship can't be found?  

If love can grow from a friend, and lust grow from love - then I might be interested.  Friendship is what matters, anything less, can go to hell...