Sirène*

She sat upright upon a rock in the middle of the sea. Her skin, pale and wet, with curves down her torso; her bare spine arched. A tail made up of carefully constructed scales that radiated the glare of sunlight. Her chest rose and fell with each intake of breath. ******* uncovered, out in the open air. She turned her head toward a near by sailor's ship. Her lips bowed into a crooked smile as she opened her mouth, words dripped like her golden locks. She began to sing a beautiful Greek song taught by her sisters. Her muse is the gift of song, a lulliby to those who pass by. She sang the last verse and the men were lead to drowning graves that lay under the ocean's surface.
*--amm

How can you breathe out my name
when my lips cannot form the shape of yours?
How can something so impossible be mine to keep?
Your demons are my enemies ~
But I cannot find the cure
that will **** them off,
so you can live without fear,
without a worry in the world.
Breathe my name
and I will attempt once more.
You are not in solitude, my dear.
You are not left in unearthly silence.
Just breathe my name
and I will be there.

--amm

When I was a little kid,
About maybe five or six
I told my parents I would become an addict on purpose
Just to show them how to quit

They said I was foolish
They told me to stop it
But I insisted I would

Now here I am, almost 20 years later
It's about time I made good.

Sometimes I make myself angry at you.
Hurt
That you aren't around.
Not because I enjoy being angry and hurt,
Not because you deserve it,
Not because anything at all has gone wrong,
But simply because
Missing you as much as I miss you on some nights
[most nights]
Has no reason,
No cause,
No cure,
No trigger or relief.
And if I'm going to feel it
My mind wants something to blame.
It is too much,
Too much love,
To simply miss you
And feel the exquisitely fragmenting pain of that.
It is much easier to handle feeling something I've felt before,
Something that can be fought,
Something that can be dealt with,
Something that has a start,
And hence,
An end.
My hurt, my anger...all of it...
Even my fear is a lie.
Because the truth is
Missing you
Has no end,
No edge,
No closure,
No border.
No creation
And no ultimatum.
If I bog myself down in petty fear and pain and enmity
If I fog up my mind and heart with those silly distractions
The love
Cannot leak through and terrify me
With its immeasurable, ceaseless enormity.
If I just stay on the surface,
I can't drown in what is really happening:
My love deepens by the second,
And I am at sea
With no land in sight.
I miss you with my skin and the marrow of my bones,
With my fingertips and in my veins.

I miss you more every moment.

It's been increasing since the day you left.
When you came back,
It only picked up.
I miss you in a way that absolutely stuns me with fear
And with awe.

I am not ready to be the vessel for that kind of feeling
That kind of love.

And so sometimes, when you're not around and I wish you were,
I make myself angry with you,
Hurt,
Afraid to lose you.
I engineer insecurities in my head.
Because the sheer truth of knowing that you love me
And missing you this much anyway
Is too immense
And too agonizing
To face.

The hardest thing is to love someone who is afraid to be loved.

All you want is to run to them and hold them.
You want their soft lips on yours,
while you pull them in closer and kiss all the beautiful and broken parts of them.

but they just push you away no matter how hard you try. because when it comes down to it
the questing,
do you love me?
is the most terrifying one to be asked

so they run

but real love doesn't just go away,
so you sun after them and hope that eventually their lungs will long for air and their legs will get heavy with exhaustion.

and you'll be the only one who can give them breath again
and the only one strong enough to hold up their weary body

for now you are caught in an endless chase
not willing to give up
no matter how much love tears us apart
we keep going because in the end it will be worth it.

at least we hope it will.

i'm not over you yet
but i'm almost there
so don't you come running back to me
with your soft lips silky hair,
telling me that you're ready to try
don't you dare pluck up the courage to tell me,
in that shaky nervous voice of yours
that you love me.
don't you think it's a little to late for that?
you've kept me waiting for war too long now
and you know what?
i've finally watched that movie we were supposed to watch together.
my one last ******* to love.
because because i'm not over you yet
and if you come running back to me
i'm afraid i never will be.