Because I don't have anyone to listen and I just need to vent.

My heart hurts sometimes.
It's unable to pump at full capacity so it gets tired. My breathing becomes labored. So I go somewhere to be alone. I tell myself I'm going to be ok over and over again.
The pain I'm sure is minimal compared to a lot of other people. I think about them. All of them. And it pangs me to think of their suffering. Because I know they have people that care about them. So I keep telling myself to snap out of it.
It still hurts though. I know one of these breaths will be my last. I know that's true for everyone. I just wish mine didn't hurt so much.
I just wanted to write this out. To pretend for a moment someone was listening.

"I could write you a poem", I said,
hoping against all hope.
"And what would I do with that?"
she reached for a cigarette.

"Perhaps it would make you happy?"
"Is that what you want?" she said.
"To see me happy?"
"Moreso than to see the morrow." I pleaded.

"What about what I want?"
The ember glowed highlighting her cheeks.
"Name it." my hand reaching for hers uneasily.
"I want you........(she smiled to herself) to go away."

It has been many a night,
many a dream has come to pass.
Her skin a reflection of the sun
as it brushes amber stained glass.

The softness of her lips,
petals of the sweetest flower.
The aching of these memories
ceaseless every hour.

The temper of a hurricane
meeting a tornado in a bar.
The passion of a new moon
even with its celestial scars.

Time has made her a spectre
it is my dreams she haunts.
I left without an argument
I gave her what she wants.

Cursed am I to exile
to ponder what she is.
A beauty yet unrivaled,
what was and never is.

I don't blame you.
I'm not sure I believe in blame.
Do you remember?
No. I've done my best to forget. And I might say I've done so wisely.
Why?
It's not worth it. There's no gain to be had.
What if there was?
Gain?
Yes.
Such as? Nye, don't bother. As I've said.
What if what was could be again?
It can't. Because it never was. I looked into her eyes.
And?
I saw the world unanswered, I saw the same stars I saw the first time I looked up.
So?
I didn't see me.

I may have forgotten that thing you said, I was probably thinking of bacon.
Yes my dear I love you my dear your words are never forsaken.

It's just that you see, bacon to me is not unlike the forbidden fruit.
There's no need to argue, it's plain to see this topic is clearly not moot.

Let me assure you as I remind you of that night I saw you first.
I came to the bar and saw you there and then I lost my thirst.

I drank of your smile and I could see where your rivers ran so deep.
A soul well scorn and nerves well worn by nights bearing no sleep.

We talked for a bit you gave me your time and poured many a drink.
So rare I had pondered when was it last that anyone made me think.

So now you see and cannot moot for somethings I do remember.
From the Chinese food to CVS and that one time in December.

Today or tomorrow.
I'll never be able to tell you.
To be reached out for.
To see a hand appear out of thin air.
Seeking only my hand.
I've seen it happen in movies.
Where she looks at him.
And it's only him she wants to see in that moment.
That must be an amazing feeling.

To be written about in prose.
To be an infection on someone's mind.
So much so that they need a release.
So they write, or they call just to hear their voice.

Something else to be imagined.
Like flight. Escaping.
In one life maybe.

The names I have acquired from those I hold most dear.
Some are quite obscure, while some are crystal clear.

A ****, a liar, and a  hypocrite just to name a few.
I suppose I'm not so good at picking up the que.

I once wandered to a field where I thought I would find peace.
Where the voices that weigh so heavily would finally come to cease.

I stood out there all alone and while the sun massaged my back.
It was then and there I guess, where I first saw the crack.

My illusions I guess they suffered too underneath the strain.
Unable to bear the weight of going against the grain.

Regrettably I stepped up and put my eye up to the crack.
What lies beyond my illusions? In what there do I lack?

A fallacy in my logic weeping there upon a ledge.
Inching closer to the fall, toes curled over the edge.

I said nothing just braced myself for I knew it had to be.
Another point of reference in what I was to see.

This fallacy is that I am of someone worth a thought.
That you would stop and think of me, an idea I had bought.

When in fact there it stood, the truth that caused the break.
Shining through the illusion, like the sun upon a lake.

Now you would think I'd spackle this and simply walk away.
But if I'm to be reminded I must leave it for today.

To come back to this illusion and be reminded of the truth.
That my presence matters not, is no mystery for a sleuth.

Today I had many plans, all of them fell through.
From going to a party to hanging out with you.

I suppose I'll go back to that field and gaze into the sun.
Where the silence follows me and the imagination runs.

I tire of the same old.
Stories long forgotten.
Restless staring at the moon.
My will is broke and rotten.

I heard you once tell a friend.
Of how you long to be.
A necessity to someone.
Just as someone isn't me.

I've never been a destination.
Or a thought one would cherish.
I suppose to most I simply am.
One they wish would perish.

So as I said I grow weary.
Of these waxing gibbons.
Weighing on my soul.
These chains are but ribbons.

My words mean so little.
In so I don't mean much.
Holding on to memories.
Of when I felt her touch.

I want to write you a poem concerning how I feel.
It has to come across as meaningful and real.

So I wrote a little bit about my gratitude for plumbing.
Praising pipes and faucets just sets my fingers strumming.

Then I thought this wasn't good and to this make amends.
So I started out on lust, counting down my favorite sins.

What am I? A charlitain? A purveyor of filth and ****.
Someone who speaks of things he wants to stick up in your ****?

No my dear tis not the case at least not this time around.
I'd rather set your mind to ease not run your ship aground.

So let's start by whispering something soft meant to ease.
You can use my sleeve to wipe your nose should you ever sneeze.

Wasn't that not good enough? A little gross for your taste?
Let try to redeem myself I promise I'll make haste.

She approaches draped in honey surrounded by an amber glow.
Knowing things I can assure, you may not want to know.

Like the sun was to Icarus it is her smile that melts my heart.
Without her works to inspire I wouldn't know where to start.

So it's her you have to blame if it's this line you do not like.
I gotta warn ya, if she likes, I'll put your head upon a spike.

Lips like fire smoldering under eyes an emerald green.
Yes I know I got it wrong Todd my eyes aren't so keen.

I'd like to say in closing a great many things.
To spout a song so beautiful like the first few days of spring.

But alas I'll fail you and end this ridiculousness.
By saying I adore you and I need to take a ****.

So tis here I leave you but never for much too long.
I'll cross your mind again one day when you hear my favorite song.

This world is dark wherein I roam,
often voiceless and all alone.
These things you think I cannot hear,
rest assured they're perfectly clear.

You see my friend there's something amiss,
and it's not unlike that very first kiss.
The event horizon breached by a meeting,
the most delightful of all the possible greetings.

Drifting and wading amongst so many souls,
aimlessly doubting they share the same goals.
Lamenting their woes and playing the fool,
never keeping in mind the golden rule.

It's in your nature to feel somewhat needed,
to serve a purpose many have pleaded.
To know that your death might bring them sorrow,
to know that sadness would visit their morrow.

Still though you stand there out in the rain,
thinking no others could know your pain.
Feeling alone and misunderstood,
I cannot help you I wish I could.

It is our tasks to wander this earth,
hoping and praying that time will give birth.
To a realization or an epiphany,
of knowing you are more than what you see.

The journey can **** and be rather daunting,
the spectre of loneliness forever haunting.
Fret not my friend upon looking you'll see,
there's to be no sorrow your will is free.

To love who you want with reckless abandon,
you may happen upon the right companion.
Someone who carest to ask about you,
to know of your fears or the size of your shoe.

Moments show up like scenes in a play,
some last for a while and some just a day.
Hold tight these firsts they may be your last,
before you join me as another outcast.