What has changed.
Surely it must be plain to see.
Rooting oneself in anything but this moment.
Is one way to certainly spell disappointment.
Too many days spent autographing pages.
Like a name makes the man.
Or perhaps.
So that the past can only condemn its owner.
Destined to be a heretic of life itself.
A hidden transgression cant hurt those it does not reach.
Then why is it chained through the bone.
Chasing daylight like the moon.
Slowly the wound festers deep and driven.
Don't you know.
These ailments take on a mind for themselves.
why else would we create them if not to one day speak.
It is the stone that shatters a paradigm.
The avalanche brought down by a whisper.
Or rather a whimper.
Yet there can be no tears here.
Not when this creations time was set.
Don't be fooled by negligence wearing the mask of ignorance.
But first its time to put down the blame.
For there is no one else in the room....
...And that laughing was beginning to irritate.

I realize now
as I read your words dancing with the light of the screen,


                        I don't love you.


I wanted to be in love.
People seemed happy
when they are in love.

I wanted to be happy.
And being in love seemed
to take all the loneliness away.

It was then I remembered
the feeling buried with
forgotten memories.


                            I liked you.


And then I wanted to love you,
to love every inch
and every detail about you.



                            "I love you."

        

But I wasn't happy.
I wanted to be happy.
I thought if I loved you I would be happy.



                          "I loved you."
      


                                               I wasn't happy.
                                            I didn't love you.
                I was merely caught up with the
                                    idea of being in love,
                           of  being in love with you.

Words tumble like broken glass from my mouth
Shards cutting my tongue and crunching between teeth
Disjointed.

A demon claws at my chest, another stealing my breath
And I wish I would slip away but I'm all too aware
Hurting.

What will it take to quiet the screams
Ringing in my ears, catching in my throat
Silently.

real sadness
doesn’t howl
or scream

it sits inside
your chest                
weeping softly

not wanting
to disturb
the exuberant air
around them