So upset am I by desire, a want that extends to another.
How unfair it must be on the other side of this transaction,
Invisible.
To think each day is the same evolution of the same sentiments
Rising and falling under the same horizon:
I see it as my own tendencies
Wake, contemplate, fight with myself, eat, elate,
Fall asleep with contention—no dreams
Want to sleep next to me.
For it is the root of philosophy to have your other half—
I am completeness without my other half whose existence
Is questionable,
Is irrespective of fate and, frankly, unaware. Yes, we’re all
Philosophers to the grave, to the ebb of human passion,
Of which I’ve been bereft by forces apathetic to my demise
I am alone—shall I always be? These and other serious questions
Come from misery. You’re a placeholder for something I lost long ago
And my watch is endlessly caught on the twenty-fifth hour
Unmoving.
I want to not feel alone—and so that is my relationship
Concerning the other person, whom is rightly not here
I am too wrapped up in the concept to think of others as people
But means to my own happiness. I am ultimately the selfish one
The only difference between me and other people: success.
Drink and bleed: defining moments in my life to discover both
So my problems can take on their own lives and breath,
And there is my distraction, my face in the display window at a zoo.
Though, if ever I were to break through the clouds, I would not
See paradise, nor if I looked down, see cities in the lake—no, there would just be
Another film too high for me to puncture. I can float in the endlessness,
Uncertainty glimmers like angels across the bold nighttime sky
I let the inertia move me, let poor mood speak my piece
Until I, like all other human interaction, fall out of place.
If I could be your guard of solitude, the shadow of your light
I would gladly stay, half-starved of oxygen
For then I'd be strong enough to cope with falling out of place.
