On a Wednesday,
here I lay
with so many things
I want to
say.

Even though
on deaf ears
it would
fall,
I still fight that urge
to call
you
and explain
the disdain
I maintain
from what you refrained
to give,
to do,
to live;
you withdrew.

How I wish I could say,
"I know you'll be back
someday.
I know you'll be in dismay,
in disarray,
for going astray,
for walking away
from what we could've made.
To realizations you will come;
to emotions you will succumb;
regretful you will become
when you recognize what you've done;
you'll become numb,
petrified of
what's been
undone.
By the time
you find
your peace of mind,
the strength inside;
when from vulnerability
and love
you no longer hide;
that someday
when you try
to reappear at my side,
I
will be far-away,
no longer with any
words I wish
to say."

I try to keep myself distracted,
Try to stay busy,
To keep my mind from wandering
Where it shouldn't.
But I look out across the
Vast expanse of water,
And my mind rides the ripples,
Catches the current,
Flows right to you.
I'm drowning,
I'm losing myself in this river
Of heartache and confusion.
I can't keep afloat
With the thought that
I would rather sink to the bottom,
Lay dormant at the water's depths
Than be without you,
And even so,
You couldn't fight to keep me
From sinking,
Couldn't breathe the air
Back into my lungs.
You couldn't make the plunge,
Swim in after me,
Sweep me under your tide.
Instead I'm left alone,
Treading the waters of love
Without you.
As the water rises higher,
I plead for you
To catch a boat,
Sail toward me,
Throw out your lifeline,
And pull me back in;
To realize all along
That you didn't want to swim away,
That even though the shoreline is safe,
You would rather be swept up
By my love
And drown in my riptide
Than sail the seas
Without me.

Goodbyes* are the hardest,
but *love alone
is not
enough,
so
goodbye,
love.

It's 11:30 PM,
and the steaming hot water
singes my back
as I talk myself out of
throwing my half consumed
bottle of beer
against the
shower wall.
My stomach feels hollow,
my throat feels clogged,
repressed screams,
traveling
from
my
insides
up.

Anger is an emotion
I rarely feel,
but as the hauntingly true song lyrics
blared out of my laptop and
reverberated against the glass door,
I was barely able to contain
the wrath,
tears of vexation slipping down
my cheeks,
dropping to my chin as I
heaved in
a sharp breath.

I'm tired.
Tired of giving.
Tired of waiting.
Tired of having faith.
Tired of loving.
Tired of losing myself.

Are we supposed to give
and never take?
Wait and keep faith?
Love without feeling
loved back?
Let our dreams, needs,
hopes, wishes...
let our souls go off track?

Empathy is my middle name,
but when will someone empathize with
me?
When will I get
what I want;
be provided with
what I need?
When will the love I relinquish
rebound back to me?

I want give and take;
I want reassurance and faith;
the mate to my soul,
the 50 to my 50;

I want you,
your heart,
your faith,
your soul,
your empathy;

I want you
like you have me.

Sometimes I find
myself
hard-pressed
to separate
dreams from reality,
living deep in the
fantasy world,
I lose myself,
too dark to see,
blinded by the
pitch black,
I try to feel my way out,
but even once I emerge,
you are the light,
and I again
become consumed,
swallowed whole by
the brightness,
you are the light, and it's
impossible to deny
how easy it is
for my soul to vacate
my body and fly to you,
like Icarus flying toward
the sun.

Inspiration,
perpetuation
of fascination,
inclination
to take refuge in
my imagination,
fantasies trapped safely in
hibernation,
concealed within
my stifled grin,
quivering
just above my chin.

Sultry sentiments slithering
through my mind,
dripping beads of wisdom,
splashing into my pond
of curiosity;

Plant the seeds,
my water bodies
make it grow,
my body fading slowly
from focus,
for in this moment
I'm not on the ground,
my shell overtaken
by a gust of wind,
sweeping away the sound
of doubt,
of matters of only earthly concern;

Whimsical daze,
my eyes rolling to the back of my head,
ecstasy manifested
in forms unexpected
for the irony lay
dormant with the rest
of the realizations,
the creation of
elation, salvation, transformation
encapsulated in
my thoughts.