Somebody, come along and give me perfection,
for so dearly do I need it;
Somebody, approach with eyes that speak naught but love,
for I cannot believe in you.
Yield to me a rose from your mind;
Bestow upon me a token of the solstice,
It is then that I shall know you;
Lead me not into temptation, but forgive
My sins as they sing from the hollow of my heart;
I can only give you my all,
Show me what perfection might mean;
And I’ll give that which I can.
Disregard me as a peasant of yours;
And I shall follow you until my days’ end.
Lead me so into temptation,
That I cannot help but succumb;
I cannot resist your body,
You cannot resist my fingers.
Give to me all that which is yours,
And I promise not to hurt you
Until the times passes;
And one of us outgrows the other.
Tell me that which you want from me,
And most certainly will I avoid it;
Tell me that which you detest of me,
And most certainly shall I console you.
Give me yourself, for I have no self of my own
I shall expose to you my soul
For you, naught but you, alone.
I hope for you to give me hope;
For I have lost my own.
I beg for you to show me God;
For I am all alone.
I hope for you to love my rhymes,
For I think they are ****
I’d love you for all of time,
If only I could make sense of it.
So, –––––, this poem may be for you,
As lame as it may seem;
But I’m hoping against hope
That all you love, all you know,
Can be seen in the lines between.
So what if I’m frantic, so what if I’m a joke,
I can’t help but love you still
So on my own tongue, may I choke
When I say these words to you
Words I know you want not to hear;
I could **** myself without you,
If only this time of year.
I am stupid in my stupidity, so
For God’s sake, someone beat it out of me.
I find solace in my silence, in my solitude;
May I will it otherwise;
May I triumph, may I elude
The source of my discomfort, that I should rather not escape
Though I may think myself Superman
I shall never wear tights.
Until tomorrow.
There was this one night were I was thinking about this one girl who meant this one thing to me; this one thing was one of the most important things of which I could ever conceive – sure, love – and god **** if I don’t miss it as a child might miss his favorite toy.
Don’t get me wrong, no, don’t get me wrong, for God forbid if I forget how much I forbid myself of God and thus need strength here and there on earth to continue with my open negligence of the divine ***** to which so many wrong-doers seem to do right.
I miss love like an orphan misses his parents – I miss my parents like an orphan misses his abusive stepdad. I miss my abuse stepdad like a kid that didn’t have one – I suppose I’m lucky in that respect – but let’s get back to the subject here, the subject of love – something someone always tends to stray away from; and let’s talk about it, because it’s on all of our minds, every waking moment of our slight existence because we have naught else to think about but the suffering of others.
Love is a selfish act, brilliantly, altruistically selfish and I would have it no other way. I can tell you that ten hundred people will die today, and your immediate thoughts will be for those that you love.
So back to the point about this one girl from this one place who meant one thing to me. Her name isn’t important because it’s not important to me or to her; it’s just something other people hold in their minds to match her face to a word. I myself don’t match her face to a single word but a dictionary thereof – I see her as being everything in the world at once; a muse, a lover, a fighter, a foreigner, a slight, the perfection of hatred – I see everything, everything that exists in her eyes.
Give me pardon or give me death, for that is all that for which I can ask in this crazy world with this one girl from this one place from this one moment in time in which we were in love.
Love to me is hopelessness, because I just think it’s silly – I can’t help but look down upon people with hopelessness, because they think it’s a virus, an incurable virus, that leaves them open and vulnerable to all the evil forces in this vortex of a world. I embrace my hopelessness, my hopelessness in love – for God forbid that I might begin to search for those things that only exist in romantic comedies, those feel-good Disney moments. I don’t want that perfection, I only want my imperfect perfection, the only thing with which I feel I can live; bestow unto me, my lord, my savior, my nothing, that which I can only find for myself.
Pardon my death, or **** my pardon, for I am not but a man lost hopefully in love – something I cannot, will not, will never want to escape, for there is no greater pain than the pain that comes from loving some girl this one night from somewhere who means more to you than any girl anywhere.