A long time coming*

Blurring the lines between what is real and what is fake, i think of you when i am dreaming awake. There is a man in a chair, within his hands he holds a gun, he wants a show, to show you, you are the one. He has 6 bullets, in his hand and his time has arrived, he awaits for the moment, love and death marry at his side.
He sits with his back to me, his shoulder is a blur and shift, i reach out to him to reassure him, and my mind starts to drift. My thoughts of you are not the only ones, i do not want to sit here watching you cleaning your guns.
I know my darling, that time has been hard, i know that at times i wish my heart was your bodyguard, i know you have seen things, that we both cannot of speak, my own heartbeat, is torn, its mouth is wretched and weak. I hold in my hands everything i thought i knew, i hold in my hands my love and memories of you, though they are marred from my own distaste, from my own assaults and my own bruised face. I watch him sit there and stare at the sun, i watch him sit there, on his lap is a gun, and i am real, am i real, or am i fake, i cannot tell if you are dreaming or i am awake.
I know times have been hard my love, i know this, i know it to be be true, i feel, i fell, i ran away into the arms of you. My own weary hands hold a gun i am not sure how to shoot, but i sit by your side, as you clean your military boot.
There are times i know, they have been hard, my brain is heavy, my memories are marred. When death has come and death has gone, how can we be the ones to walk away and carry on? How can i marry love, and hold hands with death, my eyes hold secrets and i grieve quietly and bereft. I held his hand once, i held it ****** tight, i held his face, as he fell asleep into a dreamless night.
My thoughts are heavy, it holds this gun, it hears bullets whip past my face, i see his face as he sees the sun. I hold my hand out for you, as you sit in your chair, i want to believe you are no longer there, but you are sitting with your gun in your hand as you sit on my throne, and my hand cannot let go, it is not its own.
My heart beats wildly, like a bird caught in flight, and i watch and i watch and i remember how you welcomed the night. I cannot see if you are real or if i am fake, i cannot tell what i see if i am dreaming or if i am awake. And every day and every where this is life in my vision, and i battle it down, swallow this view with succinct precision, and everywhere i judge upon peoples values, my morals of this mans decision.
I held his hand, i held his face, i held his dreams as he wandered darkly, blindly to some other place. I wanted to put my hand on the back of his chair, and whisper in his ear, it is me, i was really there. I want to know if this was real, was it something i dreamt? Were my inconsolable tears worthy of their lament? I want to take his gun and empty bullets on the floor, i want to turn him around and push him towards the door, i want to make him see that i am there, that i was here, and that i care. I want to believe that there is some good, as he began to see the night, i want to know he was ok, that he was alright.
I am marred, and i am torn, i was a purist, and now i am darkly reborn. I am frightened as i feel this, this man, and this bullet, in my chest; i wish i was your helmet, your boots, your pressed love letters, in your pocket in your chest. And i am tired, and i am weary of carrying this man, it was not that way, it was not that plan. It was not explained, nor can be, there is nothing more left in him, than there is in me. And i walk on and as i do i turn my head to the side, i take his bullets and all the tears i have cried, i take all these nameless faces that i pass by in  the street, and i want to scream at them, and fall down and beg at their feet. I want them to see him, i want to show him their pain, i want him to see he did not die in vain. But my mind is cluttered and thoughts are impaired, and i am fearful, and i am ******* scared.
I am dreaming when i am awake, because that is what we do when we give and we take. I am here, i whisper, i am here, i say, i watch him sit by himself, in my dreams during the day. I keep myself awake with everything i do, because my memories are riddled with red, white, brown and blue. Therefore dreaming is no longer a nightly passion, it is a daily occurence, it is coping, in a fashion.
And majestically i throw my love outward and upward into the air, to show that i was thankful and that i care, and i reach out my burnt hand to his shoulder, as he sits in his chair. Take the bullets, and fire, just one more time, let me hear that sound, that heat, let the clocks unwind. Am i real, or am i fake, this is a question that keeps me awake.
Drugged and alone, i lie and  try to sleep, though you still sit on your chair, and i watch you and weep. I am love, for you, i am loved, for you, i am 6 bullets in your chest, i am your helmet, i am your vest, i am your blue grey eyes, and your ***** smile, i am those stupid jokes you told once in a while, i am your friend, your companion and your light and your life, and my promise is that i will one day marry death and fall in love as his wife.
Do not worry, empty your gun, death has come, there is no need to get up and run. I tell you this in my dreams, as i lie awake, for everything you are, that you gave, I will gravely take your chair and make no mistake, in being your last goodbye.

There's times, some really hard times, when i want to hug you, really really tight, so you can feel my body against yours, so you can feel the heat of my body joining yours, and that our bodies mettle together like they were meant to be one.
I want to hug you so tight that your head is stuck in the crook of my chest, between my collarbone and my breast, and my heart is beating hard against your head, and you can feel its deep beat, pound against your head, and you would know how much i want to hug you to life.
I want to hug you, so hard that your eyes close and they squeeze tears out, and your hands grab at the back of my shirt and pull me into you so hard, holding on for your dear life, and your mouth pushes a silent 'O'  as it cries big heart-breaking sobs into my neck and shoulder.
I want to hold you so tight, that the day is out, and there is  black night surrounding you, and your eyes are squeezed so tight that you cannot see the light, until you can feel my chest rising and falling against yours, and we fall in to a deep rhythm, and you can raise your head, and begin to let the daylight in again.
I want to hug you so tight, i want to feel your entire body against mine, I want to feel your heave, and your sigh, I want to feel your heart against mine, and let it know, that everything is ok, it is going to be ok, eve-ry-thi-ng is go-ing to be o-k, can you hear it, can you hear its whisper?
I want to hold you so tight, it takes my breath away, and night becomes the day and i can still see the stars, and I fit into you like a hand in a glove, like a foot in a glass slipper and like
a piece of the puzzle in to the fit.
I want to hug you, and hold you, and carry you, hold your weight, share the load, take it all off your plate, undo your burden, move you on and feel that love has done its job for today.
Because that is what i am here for.
Because this is who i am
and what i am meant to be.
Love all.
Hate none.
Hug more.
Peace
**