How droll that we allow others to deliver us a sense of security
When, as humans, we are impossibly reckless
And uncontrollably incognizant


Eyes like lovat, hands like silk
A smile like opulence, a heart like marble
Do not a home make


Things so amorphous in already haphazard lives
Leads to chaos and catastrophe
Inevitably leaving behind pieces of ourselves
Scattered around to reconstruct on our own

Twenty six letters
Merged into thousands of words
To form millions of lines of text


Lines born by creativity
And intelligence
To shape, and steady


Lines to hold us
In sickness, and sorrow
In glee, and gladness


Lines to narrate
So many emotions
Of another
In hopes of sparking something
In us

Adore them
The way they could not adore you


Do not be ashamed of it


Do not let their inability to reciprocate
Affect your capability to emote

I have yet to acquire the love
That is spoken of fondly in faint whispers
By naive, young girls

The all consuming
Saucer eyed
Butterflies-in-your-stomach love

The love that makes one sick
With anxiousness
And giddy
With excitement

And while I wish I had felt it with you
It seems like a terribly hopeless thing to be in

I wonder if it will be like last time I left someone condignly, however harsh

If months will pass and we still do not acknowledge one another
As if there is some unspoken agreement of refusal to do such a thing


If suddenly I will open my mouth, carelessly
If some innately clueless thing will tumble out
And you
If you will reply with some balmy,
thoughtless remark


If the inauspiciousness would rain down on us,
and settle there

Our goodbye was simple

The exchanges ceased
And you stopped glancing my way

It was over so quickly
It felt almost instantaneously

All the trust and kinship
That we had managed to find for one another
Dissipated so easily

I suppose we are meant to believe that camaraderie is overrated

As humans we are archetypes for imperfection
Marvelous and macabre creatures
Paradoxical mosaics

You turned away with steely eyes, a man once soft now cold as ice
I begged you to stay, yet you refused to think twice
Merely another moral vice

And it makes me ponder, do you ever even halt to wonder?
About who I am or who I will be?

Perhaps a century passed with persistent pleas for you, from me
All the while you may be found perched upon a stool, cackling like some unconcerned fool
Not stopping to wonder who I will be

Was I a disastrous debacle, a thing full of promise shot down with a bang?
Or excessively erratic, a real toll on your brain?

Aid me in answering a few inquisitions, for placid pensiveness pushes me senseless
A cryptic enigma I'm trying to solve, however I've all but lost my resolve
Won't you answer my inquiries?
Aren't you ready to love?


Millennia drip by like liquid, decaying
I remain inanimate, restless, and waiting
Trying to convey the multitude of things you’re not saying

Daring to hope that you’re off on your own, curiously thinking
About who I will be

With a pliant personality, I wear my heart on my sleeve
With stubborn egocentricity, you wear yours in no place that can be seen

Might this be the reason for our poignant play of events?
No matter the reason, the past has been tinted
Battered and dented, a life with no sense left