You were scared
and I was drunk.
You were sad
And I came over.
I told you everything I knew,
told you everything I felt.
Hoping it would help,
We both fell asleep that night.
But it didn’t help.
I’m still here and
You’re far away.
I tried to help but our minds are too far apart.
I was sad today and I still am.
I’m alone tonight.
Where are you?
is there anybody in there?
May I devout my life onto yours?
Will you exist as I
feel you will be?
What if we are pulled apart?
Will my timing be flawed or will you explain that there is no such thing and what we feel is
as natural as your heart beat next to mine?
If you haven’t seen it yet,
I’m very self conscious of what is.
reality and the world, I’m cynical. Sick, torn apart. what I feel and what you think I feel, through what you may think you feel and what my existence wants you to feel.
I scream and I pulse.
Down inside of your rhythm and run free within fingertips.
You try to hold me but I’m away.
But my love, just call me and I’ll hold you close.
Your bliss will fuse into mine,
Your name will be the same,
our child mixture ,
our concoction, and
you and I
merely
two lives interwoven,
In between words and existence through blood,
will be connected.
Are you ready?
I am.
There’s a spoon in my right nostril and
a fork in my left.
Front side of my spine pointing to mars, back to the floor.
Legs crumpled up,
contorted angles.
Buzz in my head through waves but the air is still.
Strength failing, memory fading.
Euphoria fading,
reality forming.
Light pulled away as I lay motionless.
Inhale them exhale.
Exhale and release into yourself and free yourself.
Free your self.
Lipstick and I.
In how many ways may I exclaim my love before you hear?
Your doubt drowns my pitch
and I’m left standing,
singing to your deaf ears,
the ones that I need to listen to me,
the ones that turn away.
My friends,
my loves,
have all done the tourniquet
and all that’s left is the distance between us and my tear stained eyes watching you go away.
All I have is your scent on my scarf
that I kept in a box to preserve it but it faded.
But I still kept the box.
I can see it from here.
There’s no name written on it but I know it’s yours.
Just like I was.
There is this level of humanity
that could only be reached through sensitivity and empathy.
hands that are frozen once feel warmth of a stone while the lack of heat overcomes those
That babble and fall into their own mind torn by self consciousness.
I am free of that
but many are not.
That is the opera that is sung to them and the opera they sing.
Open border is my policy and all are welcome.
Tenderness and warmth of heart are hard to come by
but blessed when they be.
Our entire existence
lives upon a breath.
Our entire collective
inside our heads.
We dream and fathom,
concepts so pure.
Like children we play,
in the middle of life’s scorn.
Our life is a continuation, a progression if you please.
Our roles defined by others but our lives are free.
The only price we pay is life
But you only get what you pay for.
The day approaches when
I’ll finally leave.
Though it doesn’t really matter as I
never hear from you
anyways.
No phone calls or notes with
your handwriting,
nothing to remember you by every time I reach for a cigarette.
I once had a dream you wrote messages on my cancers that read,
“I love you”
they would burn off the paper but remain in the air,
tattoo’d in the air.
Now you’ve gone so far away.
And in your heart,
you’ve moved even further away.
You used to smile while I called you on the phone,
now I no longer exist in your world despite my handwritten notes dedicated to you.
But what did I expect?
Who am I to expect such powerful emotions for you?
Though I seek it in every other soul I come across,
love has been applying invisible lines between the world and I and it’s not different between you and I.
But they’ve been cut by reality and our hopes faded faster than a breath in a cold winter night.
But what can I expect when I’ve never seen you before?
I poured my soul and you listened.
I gave you my words but you never wrote back.
My theme in life is that through it all I can say that I tried and with you,
it’s no different.
Sometimes I do things I don’t want to,
other times it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
This time,
its a bad smell.
Guilt,
selfishness makes me dive into her skin without the consequence of her emotions to stop me.
She is older than I,
much more interested.
She’s searching much more than I,
I’ll let her down.
But the skin on her back feels soft,
and her body is just right.
Her pelvis feels food underneath my crotch,
grinding and pulling like exploited workers at a plant.
She’s good to me and I taste good to her.
She’s wild and sane, while I’m insane and contained.
Guilt catches up within minutes.
7 years below,
she still doesn’t know.
I’m still in love
and I’m still in mid-growth.
Maybe she does know.
And I’m the one for a show.
Let’s see what happens.
But I’m going away for a while. You won’t hear a word from me. And when I come back I will give a proper goodbye that will likely be read by no one.
But that’s OK.
And all I got was this Ed sheeran bullshit that wasn’t George Harrison.
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