I would much rather talk,
but am confined to write.
Running against the clock
with the end in sight.
How do I reach her? How do I say?
All the things she pushes away.
She does not answer my messages, she ignores all as feign,
and I am left stranded as Macbeth's pitiful Thane.
So I asked a friend on what to do.
How I should go about talking to you.
She said I should find you in person, or actually call,
but I thought both ideas were destined to fall.
I told her that I tried, and you did not want to hear,
Though this is the last time I shall ever be near.
Finding you in person, or making the call,
She argued noble, but I saw it squall.
Of course, I argued that is what I wanted to do,
But I did not want to intrude on you.
She said if I truly wanted, I would find a way,
But I am truly coming to the eleventh hour of the day.
She said I need to recognize how I made you feel.
As an object with mere lust appeal.
But that was never truly the case,
but I was never able to finish the race.
So as our music is fading away,
I scramble to find the right way to say,
That I am sorry and want to make things right and true,
Because I truly care about what I did to you.
I just hate the thought of leaving with this loose end,
and being unable to halt this downward trend.
I want so badly to make things right,
but this possibility is dimming from sight.
If given the chance, I don't even know my words,
I cannot foretell as great as your cards.
I am speechless at the very thought,
although the true situation is what leaves me distraught.
You want to know something that I will admit to none?
There is one thing I am determined to be done.
To master the art of ballroom dance.
Perhaps I see it as my second chance.
Even with this passion, I question my own intent.
What is the reason for my ballroom time spent?
Shall I master out of my own true will?
Or shall it be for a hole I cannot fill?
Either way it will come true.
Master the dance is what I will do.
Is it perhaps a twisted song,
That will be played so I can belong?
If that is my reason, then I am a fool.
Learning to dance is not the tool.
Your lack of fluidity is not why she is gone,
And mastering it will not rekindle the song.
So as I leave this place now for good,
it hurts that my intentions shall ne'er be understood.
Will I bother her again to say goodbye?
Shall I try to bandage the hurtful lie?
As much as it hurts, I will do but none.
For her sake alone, I will be done.
if to me she wants to speak,
She must do so within the week.
But I do not think she wants to say,
Anything to me but “go away.”
So I shall hold my tongue and relinquish my last try,
to make things right and to say goodbye.
If given the chance for her to hear, I would change my verse.
I would talk to her in a manner she respected.
If she were to read this, I could not say my final speech in rhyme
because it would take away from moment.
Yet direct speech must also be evaded
for I am unable to fully
fathom the idea of her reading this.
What would I say?
Would I say you were in my dreams?
Would I be able to tell you the inner thoughts of while I sleep?
The moment I try to impress
with my heart's open desires,
she is swept away within a wave.
Leaving me desolate and alone.
The salty sands of time could not make
her see through
that one
hurtful moment.
I try to speak, but
it is as if I am invisible.
Then suddenly I am seen. But it
is not me that she sees.
It is a shell that casts aside all my good intent and leaves
nothing but imperfections and
I am once again
ignored.
Even my dream
couldn't take the truth.
We had gone our separate ways.
What is the point of rushing through hopeless corridors
when the light will never be seen?
I try to escape, I try to release the truth,
but she eludes
me.
Just as all hope has been lost, I see a light.
I rush to find myself upon a balcony.
I have yearned to find that which
is in the distance.
Through the storm's current
and the woeful winter tides,
There she is again. I felt you were somewhere
and-
I was somewhere,
but-
Now 'we' were gone somewhere forever, sinking in our house of dreams.
Despite our crossing paths
and intertwined speech,
there is nothing more we share.
So this is my final silent goodbye
that you will never hear.
My last gift to you
that has come out of this structured chaos.
Our song now fades into the eternal distance.
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 2:15 PM UTC
I would much rather talk,
but am confined to write.
Running against the clock
with the end in sight.
How do I reach her? How do I say?
All the things she pushes away.
She does not answer my messages, she ignores all as feign,
and I am left stranded as Macbeth's pitiful Thane.
So I asked a friend on what to do.
How I should go about talking to you.
She said I should find you in person, or actually call,
but I thought both ideas were destined to fall.
I told her that I tried, and you did not want to hear,
Though this is the last time I shall ever be near.
Finding you in person, or making the call,
She argued noble, but I saw it squall.
Of course, I argued that is what I wanted to do,
But I did not want to intrude on you.
She said if I truly wanted, I would find a way,
But I am truly coming to the eleventh hour of the day.
She said I need to recognize how I made you feel.
As an object with mere lust appeal.
But that was never truly the case,
but I was never able to finish the race.
So as our music is fading away,
I scramble to find the right way to say,
That I am sorry and want to make things right and true,
Because I truly care about what I did to you.
I just hate the thought of leaving with this loose end,
and being unable to halt this downward trend.
I want so badly to make things right,
but this possibility is dimming from sight.
If given the chance, I don't even know my words,
I cannot foretell as great as your cards.
I am speechless at the very thought,
although the true situation is what leaves me distraught.
You want to know something that I will admit to none?
There is one thing I am determined to be done.
To master the art of ballroom dance.
Perhaps I see it as my second chance.
Even with this passion, I question my own intent.
What is the reason for my ballroom time spent?
Shall I master out of my own true will?
Or shall it be for a hole I cannot fill?
Either way it will come true.
Master the dance is what I will do.
Is it perhaps a twisted song,
That will be played so I can belong?
If that is my reason, then I am a fool.
Learning to dance is not the tool.
Your lack of fluidity is not why she is gone,
And mastering it will not rekindle the song.
So as I leave this place now for good,
it hurts that my intentions shall ne'er be understood.
Will I bother her again to say goodbye?
Shall I try to bandage the hurtful lie?
As much as it hurts, I will do but none.
For her sake alone, I will be done.
if to me she wants to speak,
She must do so within the week.
But I do not think she wants to say,
Anything to me but “go away.”
So I shall hold my tongue and relinquish my last try,
to make things right and to say goodbye.
If given the chance for her to hear, I would change my verse.
I would talk to her in a manner she respected.
If she were to read this, I could not say my final speech in rhyme
because it would take away from moment.
Yet direct speech must also be evaded
for I am unable to fully
fathom the idea of her reading this.
What would I say?
Would I say you were in my dreams?
Would I be able to tell you the inner thoughts of while I sleep?
The moment I try to impress
with my heart's open desires,
she is swept away within a wave.
Leaving me desolate and alone.
The salty sands of time could not make
her see through
that one
hurtful moment.
I try to speak, but
it is as if I am invisible.
Then suddenly I am seen. But it
is not me that she sees.
It is a shell that casts aside all my good intent and leaves
nothing but imperfections and
I am once again
ignored.
Even my dream
couldn't take the truth.
We had gone our separate ways.
What is the point of rushing through hopeless corridors
when the light will never be seen?
I try to escape, I try to release the truth,
but she eludes
me.
Just as all hope has been lost, I see a light.
I rush to find myself upon a balcony.
I have yearned to find that which
is in the distance.
Through the storm's current
and the woeful winter tides,
There she is again. I felt you were somewhere
and-
I was somewhere,
but-
Now 'we' were gone somewhere forever, sinking in our house of dreams.
Despite our crossing paths
and intertwined speech,
there is nothing more we share.
So this is my final silent goodbye
that you will never hear.
My last gift to you
that has come out of this structured chaos.
Our song now fades into the eternal distance.
5th Poem 4/30/12