I'm sorry
and simple
and stupid

These philosophies and novels and metaphysical equations dance over me and I reach up to grab them, and they smile and let me hold them for a while
Until their heat becomes too hot and I must let them go
Until next time

And personally, I have a lack of fantastical words and beautifully stringed stanzas
to express these infinitely genius ideas and expressions and equations
that I like to watch dance, starry and complex in the simplest of ways

Personally, I am simple and stupid
And I will write entire trash heaps and garbage dumps
In the passing time
Until my burns have healed and I can once again play
With the worthwhile legions of the dead, still greater than I

Did you know that these sun rays on your skin are thirty-thousand years old?
Nor did I

it is 2:23 am
the fan is set on high, despite the fact that the weather outside is -20°
fans are good for these sorts of things
white noise
drowning out the silence
the thoughts the beer brings

thoughts of fools in love in coffee shops
and cynics in tears in basement rooms
and once brave men in coffins

the dog chews on a rawhide bone

and I unbraid my hair
untangling each knot with trembling fingers

I undress slowly
removing each piece of clothing like a memory

I put on that shirt I bought for you

I crawl into bed
smearing plum lips and black eyes on an off-white pillowcase

and I think of once great loves of cynics
I think of coffins
I think of you in light blue

There is something to be said for the way your smile lights up passageways in my heart that have long been darkened

I remember the smell of your soap and the taste of honeycomb cereal and the feel of your soft hands protecting my small hands on the way across the road to my kindergarten classroom

And here today I sit across from you and I want to thank you for every cut you cleaned, and every tear you wiped, and the way you taught me to smile no matter who kicked me down, but I have to remember that you are now someone else

And to you, I am as good as a stranger
To you, we share no memories
No quiet mornings or warm afternoons

And I sit here today and I'm smiling and you're smiling but all is hollow because you cannot place my face in your photo frames of memory and I cannot help but curse myself for letting you get away from me

And these diseases of the mind are the silent terrorists, waging wars on memories and leaving ticking time bombs with tired families

I don't cry
I don't cry
I don't cry

Every Sunday afternoon you spent carving me into the person I am is gone, and I am coming to realize that without your love, this being you forged is wooden and hollow

You mean more to me than anything in the world
But you don't know who I am
I am gone to you

And every Sunday afternoon, I tell you who I am
And you smile and nod, and you're as kind as can be
But you are convinced, you've never met me



I have to smile
No matter who or what kicks me down

A bubble.
That's where I want to hide myself.
That's where I want to stay, away from the world.
Immune to the outside, just in my little corner.

It is. I want to hide. Hide from Love.
I just don't want to get hurt.

I want to be immune of feeling.
Insensitive.
I want to be insensitive.
Able to live my day to day life without suffering,
With no pain, no love or no hate.
Without. Without loving.

Everything is so...
So rough.
I want everything around me be insignificant,
to me;
With no great expectations of the world.
Without thinking.
Without having to think.
How I wished I could just snap my fingers
And everything would by as I please.

I find myself
ever concerned
with everything
stopping constantly
thinking...
waiting...
perfection must be reached,
yet there is no such thing...
only I
will see every flaw.
the words don't fall
into place quite as easy
and the thoughts,
though endless...
don't make much sense.
I'm going mad, you see...
blissfully,
I might add.
I laugh at simplicity,
envy it really...
but never able to obtain...
the truth is,
what scares me really,
is the possibility
that I'm totally sane

My mind is a constant jumble-****
Of emotions.
Questions.
To-do lists.
Taboos.
Fantasies.
Realities.
Secrets.
I get side tracked
And confused
When I try to voice my concerns
Because I'm concerned on how
What leaves my mouth
Will enter the ears of the ones around me.
How insane will this make me sound?
And sometimes the words flow
Jumping from my throat,
Trapped too long inside.
I need to express all that goes on!
It's been too long,
Since pen has touched paper
Intimately...
Lately I write what needs to be said
But only in the sense of
responsibility.
Emotionally I'm a mess;
Sensibly too.
I'm insensitive to my own being
Simply because I censor myself
for the "need" of others
The need I place for them.
I'm so concerned that I will offend
Off put,
Miss represent,
Everything about me
In a single sentence...
But the crazy seeps out
One way or another.
My tongue will dance
With the devil I have convinced
Myself that is truth.
I'm so afraid of who I am really,
I've made up another being
Who is me
And not me
Or at least who I used to be
Who I am no longer
But whom I still
too often, long for.
Lusting after what I worked so hard
to be free of.
The shackles still whispered on my arms.
The temptation to dive
Undeniably out of control
In order to feel
Complete control
Understanding
Emotions.
Questions.
Taboos.
Fantasies.
Rea­lities.
And those extremely tasty secrets.

I never let you have my heart
But I gave you my emotions
I dove into your crystal blue eyes
And floated in a pool of your sweet words

Our talks seemed to stop time
I loved every second
As our moments together drifted by
My feelings grew stronger

One day I heard stirrings of another
And like that my emotions were tossed aside
Now at the sight of your face
I disguise how I feel

Maybe you knew how I felt
Possibly you didn’t
Either way
I will write my feelings away

With each stroke of my pen
I will forget your loving glances
Stroke away your sparkling eyes
And write away the marks you left on my heart

What value is a love
that doesn't sustain the intensity
to drive one stark raving mad?
What is such good worth
that remains to see
without contrast of bad?

I accept my fate
lying here in wait
brimming with the hate
in knowing I'm too late
an apathetic state
grows at an alarming rate
as I try to tell myself
its all just a mistake