I thought I'd take the leave,
Release the grasp of my love,
My love that never shone through;
Yet I stumble upon a piece or two,
Reminiscing the song of words,
Painful, yes, but touching, as well.

I would admit, some of my rambles
Spew out of my mind when I see you;
A picture, a message, a thought of you, even,
You set my mind fuzzy, yet you make it best me;
Knowing that our hearts can never beat as one,
It fills me with bereavement.

I know time will come that I'll forget you,
Make your existence feeble in my world,
I wished this time would soon come;
Yet, I wish to savor your company,
Even if you don't feel the same for me;
Even if I am feeble to your world.

It's repeating like a broken tune;
The voices in my head,
They speak of you and me,
Of how you would symmetrize my derangements,
And send my flow gushing endlessly;
Of how you make me feel so happy, yet sad.

"I can't make you love me, if you don't",
"I can't make you mine, if I'm nothing",
"I can't be the one to make you happy",
And I won't force you to be.
I'm lost and I can't find my way;
Maybe it's better to be lost; to be deafened by truth.

I wrote a letter the other day.
dancing around the subject of dragonflies
I don’t speak in their language
honestly its too complicated
because I don’t speak in nuzzles
I don’t speak in love
I speak in the cold attitude of indifference
I mutter thoughts in blue ballpoint pen

To him I speak in keyboard clicks
with a snap of a twig we flip
and we are in the same room
matching cereal bowls
emptied of their contents in the sink
We speak in notches on a bed post
and a mattress on the floor
We speak in unwashed sheets
He crushes my disdain as if it were a walnut shell
and informs me that I speak in my sleep

Whatever the weather we stay at home
stare out the windows at the fairy lit wilderness
jotting down whatever concepts come to mind
he is cream rolling in peaks
smooth and whipped
poured over his duvet
as if he were cool whip on peach pie
He is my worst intentions personified

I wrote a letter the other day.
dancing around the subject of dragonflies
I dont speak in their language
but he speaks mine
even though its complicated
we don't speak in words
we speak in private displays of affection
we speak in caring closed door moments
and the texts he asks me to send when I walk home alone
To make sure I am safe
and In the end I may mutter thoughts in blue ballpoint pen
but He reads them loud and clear and responds in love

These hands of mine are shaking violent

Quaking as tidal waves of doubt wash through me

My insecurities eat me up inside as I try

To tell you how I feel like I’m not real and

How I know that if I were to go away

You wouldn’t know any better than if I stayed

And if I cry I might as well

Just tell you about the hell I’m

Living in because my tears show

What my eyes and mouth will never tell they hold

The remnants of my innocent soul and

That’s not something I have much left of due to

The pain I’ve been in all these years the

Suicidal thoughts the ideation all the

Lies and trials and tribulations I’ve

Had to go through all alone

But it was really by choice now

Wasn’t it when I said

That I was fine

And didn’t let you in my mind

I say it was because I felt

Too insecure to share too anxious

To speak of all my thoughts as if

It was Pandora’s box for

The evil in my brain

So instead my hands shake and you ask me

Why do they tremble when all the wind is gone

And it is silent

And I close my eyes to block the tears and tell you just

As those we love are with us

So is all the fear of

Yesterday it was dark and windy and raining and storming

And all around me there were demons howling and I was

Crying and screaming and bleeding but it was me

My fault

I choked

Ive been pondering too much lately on what it takes to live

For i've never been truly happy but I give all I can give

I'd rather sit here behind my screen and tell you it’s ok

While inside i'm crumbling and thinking that it's over or at least it will be soon

I insist upon hope for tomorrow, but I still cut my wrists

I’m a liar, a hypocritical fraud, but I hope you listen to my words and believe the part that’s true

Because death isn't the answer, at least, not for you

And while i'm struggling to find myself and trying to stay alive, the thing that gives me purpose is helping you decide

To see the hope and see the light and I watch your angel eyes

As you turn back to heaven while I stifle my desperate cries