I love you and I'm not afraid to say it.
You love me and you are not afraid to say it.
Life is good.
Short stories, poems, among other play things. A constant work in progress. Forever changing.
28 February 2011
24 February 2011
Love, Pain, Alone.
Sometimes I get tired of pretending everything is alright. That all of the people I know are wonderful and that the world is full of well meaning human beings who I have yet to meet. I often forget about the deceit, the lies, the cold shoulders that people whom I once called brother or sister have given me. It's the lack of enthusiasm to be cheated, to be used and thrown away that makes me want to crawl into a roach hotel to never come out again. It's the luster of the shit they sell that turns me off, the obvious smell of their lascivious mental encounters with the idea of fucking you over, it's what gets them off. Sick minds pay no attention to the suffering of the human spirit, it is easier to trample than it is to nurture, therefore the amount of humans who would rather see you eating dirt is greater than that of those who wish to actually help their fellow man or woman.
It's here that I find myself. Lost in thought within the crevices of my mind. Wondering what it was that made Sour Girl so sour. Was it the shitty human relations she had? Or was she just born to be a user and abuser herself. I may never know, and that is ok because some things are best left unknown.
It's here that I find myself. Wondering alone amongst the ghosts of memories. Compelled to reach out and say hello to old friends, but always reminded of their paper faces which make me quickly turn away.
I was reading over my last post, and I noticed that with the words Pain and Love you create Alone. Without the first two, the latter is non existent. It's as if language itself is telling us that to love and feel pain is the path to being alone. Because no one wants anything more than to love, and that love we all yearn for so much will undoubtedly cause pain. Once you feel that pain you realize that you have two options: You can continue to love and feel pain, or you can be alone, devoid of both, yet having such an understanding that one would purposely stray from such things in order to save thine own self.
My only wish is to find a woman who will not cheat me, lie to me, live in deceit, but a woman who will respect me as I respect her, be honest, loving, and understanding. Someone with a heart, as I am tired of meeting heartless little girls who play the strings of my heart like harp only to snap them and crush it under their feet. I certainly hope that she is the one, because I haven't met anyone who shares the kind of things we share, and thats only scratching the surface.
It's here that I find myself. Lost in thought within the crevices of my mind. Wondering what it was that made Sour Girl so sour. Was it the shitty human relations she had? Or was she just born to be a user and abuser herself. I may never know, and that is ok because some things are best left unknown.
It's here that I find myself. Wondering alone amongst the ghosts of memories. Compelled to reach out and say hello to old friends, but always reminded of their paper faces which make me quickly turn away.
I was reading over my last post, and I noticed that with the words Pain and Love you create Alone. Without the first two, the latter is non existent. It's as if language itself is telling us that to love and feel pain is the path to being alone. Because no one wants anything more than to love, and that love we all yearn for so much will undoubtedly cause pain. Once you feel that pain you realize that you have two options: You can continue to love and feel pain, or you can be alone, devoid of both, yet having such an understanding that one would purposely stray from such things in order to save thine own self.
My only wish is to find a woman who will not cheat me, lie to me, live in deceit, but a woman who will respect me as I respect her, be honest, loving, and understanding. Someone with a heart, as I am tired of meeting heartless little girls who play the strings of my heart like harp only to snap them and crush it under their feet. I certainly hope that she is the one, because I haven't met anyone who shares the kind of things we share, and thats only scratching the surface.
23 February 2011
As When Turns Into If
As when turns into if
the morning dew
sprinkled so lightly
rusts away at the promise
often made but always forgotten
to keep my head up
and let the tears roll off
without worrying about them.
It's hard to ignore
when they land on wounds
so fresh and open
that it stings
salty and abundant
like the ocean
they drown me.
It's because I let myself
fall into rough seas
holding on to nothing
expecting the waters to keep me
to drown me out and forget
that we ever existed.
Because I am forgotten
because my "friends" walk away
because no one wants to help
when you are lost in your pain
and the only thing to do
is wince at the cold shoulders.
More painful than a broken back
and busted dreams.
As when turns into if
I feel her slipping away
and it's ok
because nothing is meant to last
only pain is eternal
only love is eternal
only alone is eternal.
You forget about the good times
because it's a hindrance.
You forget about the bad times
because they remind you
that you are alive.
Forget,
because it's the human thing to do.
the morning dew
sprinkled so lightly
rusts away at the promise
often made but always forgotten
to keep my head up
and let the tears roll off
without worrying about them.
It's hard to ignore
when they land on wounds
so fresh and open
that it stings
salty and abundant
like the ocean
they drown me.
It's because I let myself
fall into rough seas
holding on to nothing
expecting the waters to keep me
to drown me out and forget
that we ever existed.
Because I am forgotten
because my "friends" walk away
because no one wants to help
when you are lost in your pain
and the only thing to do
is wince at the cold shoulders.
More painful than a broken back
and busted dreams.
As when turns into if
I feel her slipping away
and it's ok
because nothing is meant to last
only pain is eternal
only love is eternal
only alone is eternal.
You forget about the good times
because it's a hindrance.
You forget about the bad times
because they remind you
that you are alive.
Forget,
because it's the human thing to do.
22 February 2011
Trauma Sing Along
Truth is I am crippled
my heart has been broken
and I am not able to keep it
here by myself.
Too many pieces
to hold on to
pieces that fall through my fingers
I just want some help
to keep them in one place
instead of all over the streets.
Winds of change
blow out the crevices
and gutters
where some pieces have fallen
and been forgotten
while the aching
and the raking
stir up
the memory of yesterday.
It's ok
to forget
to let go
but it's the crack
inside my head
that led to the breaching
of my heart
that keeps me wondering.
Will the scars ever heal?
Not as long as I pick at the scabs.
my heart has been broken
and I am not able to keep it
here by myself.
Too many pieces
to hold on to
pieces that fall through my fingers
I just want some help
to keep them in one place
instead of all over the streets.
Winds of change
blow out the crevices
and gutters
where some pieces have fallen
and been forgotten
while the aching
and the raking
stir up
the memory of yesterday.
It's ok
to forget
to let go
but it's the crack
inside my head
that led to the breaching
of my heart
that keeps me wondering.
Will the scars ever heal?
Not as long as I pick at the scabs.
16 February 2011
Romance me with your voice
Taste of something new
something untouched
unwilled.
I feel the pull
of my emotions
reminding me I'm alive.
They tug
and squeeze
this lonely heart
a simple reminder
that feelings still exist
apathy was just a somber way
of letting me know
something else could be here,
a beautiful emotion
that radiates through
and into the void that was left
filling the emptiness up to the rim
with her kiss
and her hugs
and the thought of her lips.
So glad
to have her here
or there
rather anywhere.
As long as I hear her voice
say to me those words
"I love thee."
something untouched
unwilled.
I feel the pull
of my emotions
reminding me I'm alive.
They tug
and squeeze
this lonely heart
a simple reminder
that feelings still exist
apathy was just a somber way
of letting me know
something else could be here,
a beautiful emotion
that radiates through
and into the void that was left
filling the emptiness up to the rim
with her kiss
and her hugs
and the thought of her lips.
So glad
to have her here
or there
rather anywhere.
As long as I hear her voice
say to me those words
"I love thee."
12 February 2011
Snivels
I dream of bamboo
growing from the empty pots
it is something new.
Her soft hand touches
my hand caresses her too
lips interwoven
The sky it turns blue
green sprouts they are reaching up
from ground to the sky
it is something new
sprouting form a random act
a friendship it grew
a friendship so new
they slowly get to know what
the other is like
through traveling notes
two thousand thirty five miles
they send their x o's
Thirty four hours
is all it would take for them
to know how they taste.
growing from the empty pots
it is something new.
Her soft hand touches
my hand caresses her too
lips interwoven
The sky it turns blue
green sprouts they are reaching up
from ground to the sky
it is something new
sprouting form a random act
a friendship it grew
a friendship so new
they slowly get to know what
the other is like
through traveling notes
two thousand thirty five miles
they send their x o's
Thirty four hours
is all it would take for them
to know how they taste.
08 February 2011
Venturing out
I can't wipe the shit eating grin off my face.
She keeps texting me,
and I her.
There is nothing to be afraid of.
She keeps texting me,
and I her.
There is nothing to be afraid of.
02 February 2011
Cleaning house
Go flash some dollar signs, surely they will all come a flocking. Meanwhile I've got nothing to hide the holes in my pocket, the holes where the money drains out. At least I rest easy knowing my hands are clean from dealing with the scum and the lost souls hiding up in the trees. Loneliness surely can get to you though. Where did all the real people go? Into the foliage, lost to lack of self control.
01 February 2011
Mental Miscarriage
As time passes, I find myself more out of this funk that she left me in. I must learn not to love so easily. I must learn not to give my heart so easily. I must be weary of girls and women alike. I must not allow myself to be treated like a toy for a bored little girl to play with. I still say it again and again, Blonde on Blonde by Bob Dylan... Did he read my mind from the past? Or did we unwillingly play along to his script. We may never know. But as I prepare for a second surgery, I can say that I wish she was around, to talk to and to kiss. One needs those sorts of things, part of the human condition you see. I wouldn't mind being the one doing the using this time around, as long as it was her I could dump and make feel like nothing, just as she did to me. But slowly, I'm crawling out of this funk she left me in, because I shouldn't let a girl break my spirit, especially one I thought was a woman.
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