Our love was so deep that it transcended the meaning of the word.
I needed a different phrase to make my feelings heard.
Our romance was never normal.
Our dance was never formal.
I loved you in a different way. In a manner words could not portray.
Why Couldn't you stay?
We could've lived out the rest of our days.
Together.

I trap myself inside my mind.
I try to make myself blind
to the bond we used to share.
I try not to care.
But I can't run away from the emotions or the oceans of despair.


So I lock myself inside my head trying to decipher the puzzle presented to me.
How can something so beautiful become so ugly?
How can something once so alive be so dead?
Will this agonizing sorrow stop running through my head?

I try to cope and I hope that this suffering will end.
But when I close my eyes I hear your voice and pretend
that you are still well.
And that's when my eyes swell
and the scared loneliness comes rushing back.

How can I carry on with my life,
when your death is stuck in my mind like a knife?
You were taken too soon
like a lunch before noon.
I promise we'll meet again soon....
**I'll never get out of this world alive

I hurt
          to be
                                                                                   seen                 by



                       Someone
                                        
                                                     other than

                                           the     other
                                                                                                                                Someone
          that                                  I
                                                      must
                                                               hurt
                                                                                                          to       see.

my skin tingles, overstimulated by the harmless cotton sheets
my stomach leaps, awakened to the enfolding silk of your skin
we flit in and out of consciousness
like drunken butterflies
my head pounds
I realize
the lamplight
the golden haze of "last night"
swirls of a memory
of ecstasy and an oil black record turning
and stopping
and my hand
reaching to flip it over
only to halt, relax, and slip down the nightstand
I strain my eyelids
remembering the forsaken B-side
every muscle aches
every inch of my flesh is spread with warmth
I reach for you
like I reached for the satin vinyl
but like last night
my hand slips into air
the potency of the illusion, the sensory explosion, the ache of losing
cling to my cold sweat in a bittersweet perfume
in the waking hour

so love,

you left me hanging after all

This bed feels hard beneath my back,
while my head aches with swarms of beasts
trying to break through the door,
faceless demons who want to reunite with my bones.

They won’t.

This exterior has strengthened,
shielding the dark magic the devil tries to drill.
And my sword wards off the stragglers,
drowning the witches in water and smoke.

But sometimes I just want distraction –
from my head,
from my heart,
from its steady beat,
reminding me of who I am. –
Because, sometimes, I just want to drown out with the rest,
to fade into the crowd,
and feel ever-so-swiftly faceless.

See, sometimes I want a warm body to hold me,
for once in my life to live out pure lust –
animalistic and loveless. –
In a world where it’s use or be used,
For once I want to be the predator.

Rough arms to wrap around my bare back,
my legs to wrap around a smooth waist,
my body pressed against a cold wall
as a steady hand grazes my thigh,
a tongue that ventures around my earlobe,
and lips that travel down my *******,
but no eyes to look into, for this means nothing,
so eventually we can…

But I stop because it won’t ever be.
As much as I want to feel nothing at all,
even for just a few moments,
there’s nothing that will make me forget.

I’m too strong for this now,
too happy for this now,
that when I’d like to cry, I can’t –
lucky if a single tear cools my cheek,
but never enough to feel better.

Every time the wish arrives
my own voice makes the thought subside
with a single, chilling whisper:
I’m better than this.

So all I can do
is hope that someday I’ll eventually be rewarded
for the falters that led to my freedom,
a freedom that has chained me down…

for simply
being
me.