Something like home . . .

"I Know It's Stupid"

But I am a fool.
I am stupid.
I am completely stupid for her.
Pretty words.
Lust.
And outrageous chemistry.
We literally can't be near each other without wanting to fuck the shit out of each other.
And she lets me.
Own her.
Love her.
Give her all of me and then some.
Always lusting, begging for me.
Her pussy tastes like . . . There is no other flavor like it.
And she lets me have it.
Gives me all of her.
We don't have physical limits and that's the best part.
That and the ability to stare into her eyes . . .
Smelling her hair . . .

:)

"Over My Dead Body (I Refuse)"

If you thought I'd give up, thought I'd forget.
I won't.
If you thought that I'd forgive you, take the higher road.
I won't.
You're a pure asshole.
You know it.
You made promises that you had no intention of keeping.
Asked questions, you had no intention of answering.
If you live up to your word, I'll be pleasantly surprised.
But you've forever been a disappointment. To everyone around you.
Especially to you.
Most especially to you.

"It is Definitely Changing"

Write it down in places that no one will ever look.
Hide it, scrawl it on walls that will forever go unlooked.
I wanted to be giving you everything that you wanted.
I wanted to be giving you everything that you thought you needed.
But that would take a man that you are not.
Not yet.
Thumbs up, kid.
Thumbs the fuck up.
You've no time to sulk or be a little bitch.
The world won't let you be. Let you remain unphased.
Grow the fuck up.

"I Love Love Songs"

Like the sound of the ocean waves crashing.
Like the sound of birds chirping and singing in the morning.
Like the warmth of the sun on your back, when you don't have shit to do.
Like when you've finally, relentlessly completed something that you wanted to do.
Apply that same ethic to everything and anything could be yours.
Put it out there and eventually someone will accept it. Will accept you.
You only have to remain vigilant.

"Lifted"

An anchor has been lifted.
Boat set free, with oars lost.
All I have to do is live.
No one can ask me for more.
No one can expect more.
And if they do, tell 'em to go straight to hell and fuck themselves twice over.

Closure

"My Anchor and Emotional Well"

My grandmother is dying.
"She's getting weaker and weaker by the day"
They say that she doesn't have much time left and speculate that any day now that she is going to pass on.
And I am afraid to go see her.
I . . . am a coward.
I do not do grief well.
I do not want to say goodbye.
I do not. Period.
I know that she is tired.
I know that she is in constant pain.
But I am selfish. Unforgivably so.
I don't even go to see her, because it mindfucks me to know that each time might be the last time that I see her.
But . . . I am a coward.
My grandmother has been more stoic, more constant, more vigilant and important in my life than any other person I have ever met.
She made me into who I am. She taught me right. She taught me wrong, without doing any herself.
I fucking love her. I swear to God, the ethers, and everything that I do.
But I am not strong enough to say goodbye.
Without her . . . I don't know.
If it hurts this much to imagine her death . . .

Sometimes . . . Shit gets real.

"If Only I Had Full Control of My Feelings and Faculties"
A stupid girl and as stupid boy made a stupid mistake
And like all stupid things, it grew, it evolved
And like always, the stupid boy let his stupid feelings take root
Stupid, stupid, stupid, dumb
For he is only a boy, only a human

"So There's This One Girl"
I don't know . . . I guess it was my fault.
I shouldn't have let her see my cock.
I should have said "No".
I should have known my own limitations or at least considered them.
I didn't.
Now, I'm in a shit place. Again.
I don't know if it's budding Love or the desire to find out, but I do know shit isn't okay.
And that's on me.
I shouldn't be so easily tolerant.
I shouldn't care so much.
But here we are again, kicking myself.
Because no matter what I do to deny, to pretend otherwise.
I am falling, following my cock. Following my stupid, stupid heart into trouble.
She isn't Megan. She isn't Megan.
I know that. But I know there are many ways for a heart to be broken.

"Estupido"
"It's so big"
That little compliment and the allowance of my cock and the want of my company . . . was all it took.
Brian
James
Robinson
You are an idiot.

"The Wealthiest Hoarder of Apathy"
I don't give a fuck.
I don't give a fuck.
I don't give a good god damn.
Fuck it.
Fuck this.
Fuck him.
Fuck her.
Fuck this game.
I do not have to play.
I am not a pawn. A mere cock.
A good friend.
F.U.C.K. I.T.

"Empathy, Rescind!"
Like a cover or a cloak, sheathe me no more.
I am throwing you to the winds.
Uncloy my heart with fragility and naivete.
Fuck it all and let me be numb and insensitive.

Ugh

I literally want to give the fuck up on women and relationships. It seems like a collossal waste of my time and effort. I'm so not into mind games or the cold shoulder or cute little flirtatious quips that never lead anywhere. I think I'm just going to go back to be cynical and angry at the world, at least then I was happy and not fucking stressing over vagina and the lack of it.

Jesus H. Christ?

What the hell does the "H." stand for? Just one of the few things that have been on my mind. I think I recently watched a movie that someone within said "Jesus H. Christ!" and was deeply concerned that I was an idiot . . . Then again, I've always been a little bit off. So, music saved/is saving my life and new women. It's surprisingly refreshing to talk to females that don't have their head so far up their own butts that they can't see the sunlight or smell their own shit.

I wonder

If I am a decent guy, is it possible to find a woman who is not a complete cunt? Who will treat me as I treat her? Because at the moment, that seems nil to impossible.

Lesson learned

If it looks like a bad idea, feels like heaven, moves heaven and earth, makes you want more than you should, destroys your confidence in yourself, makes you put all your eggs in one basket, forces you to ignore friends, pushes your buttons for no fucking reason, constantly nags, fucks like a porn star, swallows the whole of your cock until tears are in her eyes, cries to you, plots out a future with you that includes marriage and children, drinks with you, is jealous of your friends, hates your mother, is judgmental, is temperamental, loves you, hates you, disrespects your ambition . . . more than likely, it will be a colossal waste of your time. That's what I have learned. Two words: fuck you.

The last year and a half of my life, I feel like I have wasted completely. Nothing was gained from the experience other than the complete ostracization from my family, my friends, and my own pride, for no other reason than to please someone completely insatiable. To take so much emotionally, physically, mentally, and financially from me was easy for you. I, on the other hand, am left holding a wet fucking sack, picking up the bullshit pieces of the relationships I damn near burned away for a vicious, callous woman. Your career matters more to you. Your ambition matters more to you. And I, well, as far as I can see, was simply muscle, a warm body, and a hard cock for you. Nothing has changed, and yet, everything has.

Within a month or two, someone else will be between your thighs and I can only hope they displease you, that they hurt you. I do not, cannot, and will not wish you the best. I, fully and happily, renounce all love I ever had for you. You are an idiot to sacrifice what we had for nothing more than a few doubts . . . Don't misunderstand me. Your doubts are valid, but the inability to believe in me, is (I hope and pray) going to be the worse mistake of your life. I hope every fucker you meet is a douchebag, cheats on you, hurts you, lies to you, takes you for all you're worth. I want you to cry, to sob, to be broken.

Am I bitter? Fuck yeah. I do not like giving so much without reciprocation. It was never about us for you, only I-I-I; me-me-me. Never we. And that is disgusting. I want karma to fuck you over. I want nothing to go right. I want you to beg for me back. I want to smile and tell you to go fuck yourself.

I will be playing "Take This to Your Grave" for a long while, concerning you.

What?!

It occurred to me that my ability to articulate myself and my vocabulary, might be a possible hindrance in my quest for a job. I don't know for certain, but I really get the feeling that my ability to express myself fluently in the English language, while to me doesn't seem that amazing, is intimidating and a turn-off for most employers. At least in the restaurant business. I don't mean to say that the majority of workers, employers, and fast-food goers are dunces or the like, just that I think it's really fucking stupid that I'm overlooked because I'm confident in, and use my native language to the best of my potential.

My grandma doesn't get it . . .

She thinks that I've not found a job because:

•  I'm lazy
•  I think every job is shit
•  I don't want a job

This would all be well and good, if any of these were the case. But they aren't. I've applied at every place I can think of. I've taken suggestions, I've done follow-ups, I call back, I go in, I drive here, I drive there. And still no fucking job. She thinks that I'm showboating, applying places with no intention of keeping or doing my best at a job. Really, it's assholish of her to think so little of me and for the life of me, I can't think of a reason why her opinion even fucking matters to me at all. She's old. She's bitter. And now, she thinks it's okay to be caustic, crass, and mean. If I were lazy, I would have quit looking for a job ages ago. I would have fucking quit the Loop for that matter. I don't think every job is shit, I just don't think that some jobs advertise themselves for what they are; nor do the bosses/owners/swindlers tell you up front that they plan to Jew you out of money and essentially break your back, so that you can make them more money and they can compensate you for as little as possible. Maybe I'm idealistic, for wanting a job where I can work for 15-30 hours a week and not be paid in lint and buttons; but I believe that I'm a friendly person. I don't back-talk my superiors. I show up on time. I do everything in my power to make sure that I learn whatever the fuck it is that I'm supposed to learn, so I can do my job competently and I work hard. Sure, I like to socialize; I like to talk, but I don't think that's that bad of a thing, considering the amount of effort I normally put in to getting shit done.

But I suppose my opinion is moot at this point. Because really, I don't have a job. I haven't made any lead way anywhere. I'm sure Megan is on the verge of leaving me. Literally, the only reason she hasn't is because she loves me, terribly; and apparently I fuck like a Greek God. But the notion of me not getting a job is hard on us. She has to pay for everything. Everything. And even when I get a job, she doesn't want me to pay for anything. Which is fine. I guess.

I feel like . . . how does the saying go, "lower than whale shit on the bottom of the ocean"; yeah, something like that. Like I feel like such a worthless sack of shit, that I want to break up with Megan to save her the trouble. Whenever I feel like this, I want to sever ties completely with everyone . . . and just pick up, pack up, and vanish. I don't have the heart or constitution for suicide. I've never had that. I tried as a child as realized I can't override my self-preservation instinct; and as a teen when I tried to take sixteen aspirins . . . well, I obviously lived didn't I? Point being, even in self-mutilation, the one thing I should be good at, I fail.

I don't want to quit though, surprisingly. My main motivation being Megan. I want her to extremely that my desire to say fuck it all, is completely negated and then overwhelmed by a need to show her that I can, and that I will.

So, I guess all I can do is continue applying, continue calling, continue going in, continue praying, hoping, wishing, begging for a new job that at least allows me to return to school.

What the fuck is wrong with my younger brother . . .

Like this kid is twisted up on the inside. Sometimes I just want to punch him in the face and in the act somehow knock the sheer absurdity and ignorance right out of his skull. Like he hounds me constantly, I want to hang out, I want to hang out; and yes, I do hang out with Fika more, but . . . fuck, dude, she's 18. Not 14. She can come to Aladdin's. Which is normally where I go to hang out. I don't mean to be an ass to him and make up shit like I'm always busy, but when he asks to randomly come over to my house, I know that it's not completely about fellowship for him. He wants to sit up on Sean's Xbox and play Halo online, or play games on Sean's computer or eat the shit out of the food in the kitchen or give me various details about his life that I really, really, really could do without. I don't give a shit about you catching random boners and hugging on little high-schoolers. They stopped being attractive to me when . . . well my last year of high school. Maybe I'm the real asshat, because this is the only way he knows to interact with me and maybe he thinks that if he shows me that he too is very interested in girls, and likes similar video games that this will somehow . . . make me more endearing. Unfortunately, that's not the case. I'm fairly content in being by myself, a lot of the time. Megan is different. First, she doesn't hound me to play video games and normally can be found either watching television in her spare time or reading a book; or if the mood strikes her . . . with me on, in, or around her person. And being that John is the furthest thing from attractive to me and doesn't know how to take a fucking hint, I tend to avoid him at times. And that's really fucked up. I know. But I don't really see myself changing anytime soon. I'm stressing over not having a job and the various things that places that I apply tell me; and generally just don't feel like being around a hyper teenager. Makes me wonder if I was that bothersome as a kid . . . I don't think so, because I spent the majority of my time, alone, writing poetry or alone, reading books. I didn't really have anyone to socialize with outside of school. I know he's got that and shouldn't be so gung-ho about being around me . . . Fuck, I'm rambling again.

"So Desperately Obvious"
I hope I am not.
I hope I look hopeful and excited.
I just feel like shit. Completely and thoroughly.
I haven't done anything, haven't able to keep my word to her, to myself, to my grandfathers, to anyone.
And I know exactly why . . .

In Retrospect

"It's Kinda A Funny Story"
Like seeing her, knowing that she wants to be my friend
But knowing that I don't trust myself about her or her about me
That my girlfriend isn't at all comfortable with the idea of me talking to her
It doesn't sit right in my stomach
And my conscience would probably eat me alive if I ever saw her without Megan's knowledge
It's funny because before, before me being stupid and thinking that I could ever love her
We were friends
Just friends
Could hang out
Could chill
But like most things, feelings, too strong, too immature, too primordial ruined what could have just been a good friend

Everything that I should . . .

"Unnamed"
Today, I attended a funeral. An old fashioned, screaming and shouting, bawling and stomping funeral. And like every one I've attended up until this point . . . I was flabbergasted, stoic. Death is the one true certainty in life. The moment you are born, is the instant you start dying. It's almost funny. The other day I heard a line in a song that just stood out: "everybody dies, but not everybody lives." I don't want to regret. Ever. I actually prayed for Megan, for us, and the chance to make things right. I don't feel like I'm making enough of an effort, but . . . I know that this is my last chance. And I refuse to sabotage it, like everything else. But unlike the other shit, I didn't really care, thus the apathy. She spins my top. And I owe it to her, myself, those that have listened to me cry and whine to make good on my word and promises.

She is a bit stupid and dense

"Unnamed"
Like how the fuck am I supposed to react?
How am I supposed to be?
Calm?
Apathetic?
Am I supposed to pretend like it doesn't bother me that you're thinking about, probably planning on fucking Servio?
Like the idea that it doesn't bother you, doesn't bother me?
Are you shitting me?
Really?
Don't be stupid.
If you had no intention of being with me, then why did you tell me that you wanted to have my children?
If we had no future, then why did you pursue a relationship with me?
If I'm not supposed to feel anything, why have you been fucking me for the last two weeks?
What the fuck?
Why have you been calling me 'honey' and such?
If you'd no intention of being with me?
You're not as mature as you want to be . . .
And pretending otherwise won't help you move on.
I am not Andrew.
I am not Servio.
I am not the others.
Despite however they handled your rejection or apathy, I don't want or plan to.
I promise you that.
If you don't want me, tell me and be done with it.
Stop cuddling.
Stop inviting me over.
Stop making those eyes at me.
Say fuck off and be done with it.

New Poem

"Weird Dreams"

That's what she said she had
She couldn't remember them, only the impression that they were weird
And that I'm being quiet and short and that I'm pretending that she isn't going to New York
No, I know
Trust me, I know that you're going to New York to be with Servio, to discover if you Love him or not
Haha, I know the answer
It's clear
And now I'm not sure what I want anymore
A day, a week, a month after you broke my heart, again
I knew that I don't want to be hurt like that again
And that there is no way to be careful with your heart
This is me in a relationship, where I'm planning ahead that it won't work
She told Nedal, when he asked why we aren't "together" and her answer was:
"Because he's him and I'm me"
Whatever that means
Whatever that is supposed to imply
Last night, laying with my back to her, Incubus playing in my ears
I cried
I prayed for God to simply take me
Or give me some way to not be who I am
She makes me feel like the world is my playground and then . . .
Like I'm nothing, less than nothing
That my life is over and I've no chance to do anything
I started in the car this morning when she mentioned dreams
Because for the first time in a long time, I've been having dreams
And all of them have been weird dreams
I can't exactly remember what they were about, just that they left a serious impression of desire and fear
Weird, yeah?

Music that's stuck in my head . . .

Old Poems

Oct 1, 2009

"On a Day Like Today"
I smile.
Not because it is oh-so-amazing-that-I-can't-help-it, but because
I want to.
On a day like today, where the smallest of things seem like the most devastating of pushes
I smile.
Because I know that today, I feel poignant and alive again.
On a day like today, it is perfect for forging anew old bridges; constructing new ones
And setting off on a new path
On a day like today, I breathe relief and relax, destined to live high and mighty.

"30 lbs."
Growing up, I was always the scrawniest, tiniest, most runt-like kid in the litter.
Picked on, for being unable to control my height, for not being the fastest; for being the smartest; for being different.
So, agitated and upset that I would go home at night and cry myself to sleep;
Wanting so badly to be apart of the fold, to simply be another face with the 'popular' kids.
It wasn't until I stopped really caring what others thought that I became 'popular' in my own right.
But only because I was willing to say what most thought, without remorse.
I remained the tiny, scrawny kid, but I had a mouth that wouldn't quit.
And that gave me reason to be confident.
Throughout the majority of my youth, I was always that teeny, puny kid until I joined JROTC in high school.
I can't credit them with my overall strength, for I've always been stronger, faster, more agile than I appeared, but for giving me a sense that being healthy and in shape was important.
I remained in good shape the remainder of my high school career and the beginning of my college . . .
But then something happened.
Something changed.
I forgot about how addictive and seductive the Sloth was.
Forgot about my pledge not to let him control me.
And while unaware, he did. He helped me settle into a sedentary lifestyle of food, laziness, and overall apathy.
Now, I'm thirty pounds heavier than I ever thought I could be.
I want them gone.
Not just to look better, but to feel better about myself and who I am.

Aug 25, 2009

"Unnamed"
We are meant to interact with each other, but to never fully understand.
I am beginning to see that.
I don't even know why it even upset me at all.
But it did.
It does.
Girls are an enigma.
Ridiculously candid, and fun to be around at times.
And then on the other end of the spectrum, the reason and cause of most of my woes.
F.M.L.

Jul 6, 2009

"It Is a Common Thing"
For me to be disappointed and have my expectations rarely met,
For me to feel as if I met halfway only to find the agreement neglected by the second party.
I know that I do not always do what I say I will.
Sometimes my mind becomes absorbed elsewhere.
I know this. I understand this.
I know that this happens to others, so why am I so disappointed still?

"Smells Like Kerosene and Matches"
I get it, okay?
You were right and I was wrong.
You weren't, aren't, and won't be ready for a long time.
You were right; you made it so that you could climb the rope and when you let go, it would hurt.
I get it.
You're sadomasochistic, and find some pleasure in hurting yourself

"Daily Devotional"
Kneel down and fold your hands.
Beg and plead for the solace that you can find nowhere else.
Close your eyes and wait;
Feel the anticipation build, as you pray day after day.
Thinking the more often you do it, the more he'll hear you.

"Unnamed"
Child becomes boy.
Boy becomes teen.
Teen becomes . . .
A man? A fool? A scholar? A detriment?

"And the Walls Will Come Down"
With this crumbling facade,
This need to let it break upon the shores,
You free yourself.
You draw back our outstretched arms.
You tuck your head and curl into a ball;
the beating will no longer hurt you.
With this roaring silence,
You close off.
You never did well with company.
Swallow your tongue and words and pretend you never let it happen.

"When You Are the Unwilling Villain"
It is best to lay down your armor.
Set aside your sword and shield.
Offer up your bow.
Wave the white flag and leave.
Do not defect. You will never truly be accepted on their side.
Walk away and give them solace.
Never to return.

"The Road Less Traveled"
There it is again,
That nagging, incessant feeling,
Standing like a shadow behind me.
I hate that in my free moments she clouds my mind.
How bright the memory of her eyes are.
Like Carl Thomas, sometimes, I wish I had never met her.
Don't it always seem to go that when things are simple, someone finds a way to make it difficult, complicated

"Ink On My Hands"
Melancholy,
I hate being sick

"Succubus"
The ideal woman
Driven by a desire to satisfy a man
Sated only by being the very dream of every man

"True to My Path"
Aware that any deterrence from my heart's conscience
Any failure to adhere to my most carnal instincts
Will result in my eternal anguish
I just want her back
Not for sexual gratification, but for selfish validation
For that burning glimmer in her eyes
Just to know that it takes all of her will to resist me
To feel that gravitation again

"Unnamed"
She had a look in her eyes
An unspoken permission to continue
So close, so driven
Her hands stroking my cheek
Her feet on my shoulders
Conquest!
But still the look in her eyes
Haunt my memories
A chance encounter
A chance encounter

"Empty Portrait Part Two"
I've a new empty portrait
It sits on the wall staring out
Aching, screaming out for companionship
And like most things, I am unable to give it what it needs, what it was meant to receive
Deserves

"Unnamed"
Like a pounding drum,
I can feel it in my core.
Waking my heart
Like an amazing rift,
My fingers strumming an invisible guitar.
Making me arch my back and groan.
The sexiest instrument, sometimes brings tears to my eyes.
Tone, pitch, melody.
The very essence of sensuality and longing.

Old Poems

Jul 20, 2010

"Unnamed"
I don't know how to reassure her.
I suck at it. Literally.
I can't promise her a stable future.
I can't promise her a future where I'll be making most of the money; I'll be taking care of our family; where I'll be the provider.
Because I'm not a liar.
I've never really had a plan for my future.
I didn't plan to work at the Loop forever, but I didn't really plan anything beyond it.
Last night, she kept asking me what was my future goal; my final destination and I didn't have an answer.
What would I be doing if I didn't live with Mr. Adams and Sean?
I don't know.
I didn't say that if I didn't have a home, I wouldn't be living.
I can't see myself on the street . . . I can't.
I didn't say that, because it's melodramatic and scary and a cop-out.
She said to me that I look at everything as if it's insurmountable.
And strangely, I do.
I've never felt as smart or as motivated or as well informed as everyone around me.
The only thing I've taken to heart from my childhood, learned irrefutably from my mother and father is:
Everything that happens to me, is my own fault.
I am the cause of my own woes.
That I should have been smarter and known more, even if said information was not available to me.
That I should take the initiative to find it on my own.
And that I'm fucking lazy. To more than a fault.

"She's Going to Leave Me"
Every time, Megan asks me about my future with her now, my grandmother's words echo in my mind.
Like some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy.
Telling me that I'm not enough now, and based on past experiences, I won't ever be.
Don't get me wrong, she's not high maintenance.
She only wants me to succeed; to have money; to complement her.
I don't do any of those things now.
So, every time, I make her worry or cry, my grandmother's words echo in my mind.
And I remember that I'm not enough.

Jul 12, 2010

"Unnamed"
My grandmother told me today not to fall too deeply in love with her,
Said that, she, would devastate me, in the end,
That there's no way that Megan is going to marry me,
Let alone stay with me . . .
Now, I don't want to say that I just laughed it off,
Because I didn't.
That's actually one of my biggest fears.
And my grandmother went on to say: nothing is as bad as a broken heart.
I didn't tell her that I know or try to be sarcastic,
Because there was general angst in her voice,
As if she were reliving something on her own,
And I could hear the fear in her voice.
She doesn't want me to feel the same way,
To know that kind of agony;
So I appreciate the sentiment.
Really I do.
I just don't want to plan for a future where she isn't in it.
That's like letting go of the steering wheel and smashing the accelerator,
I don't want to facilitate a crumbling of our bridge.
I'll say it: I love her.
I want to marry her.
Just not yet, and I don't want to plan for the day when she does leave me for not being enough.

Nov 6, 2009

"Forward Progression"
So much potential, squandered, but not.
A full-on contradiction, I smile, laugh, and sneer at myself.
Like really, 'are you that ridiculous'?
'Will you really not take that extra bit of effort to change your circumstances?'
And then I smirk even wider, knowing that others have done so much more, with so much less.
Have tackled so much bigger things, and I lounge about in mediocrity and complacency.
And then I wonder, "Why?"
And in the immediate instance after, repeat a quote from a book: "the question is always deeper than the answer."

"Got It Backwards"
The interesting thing is that girls always ask me why I don't have a girlfriend already.
Always say that it's wild, because I'm such a good guy, or not a Creeper, or so smart.
That I'm so nice and such and such.
Not really understanding how arrogant I am, and how odd the majority of girls seem to be.
I think they (the majority) want a nice guy.
Want someone that will treat them with respect, but have it so twisted in their mind, that there is no such thing.
"But there's so many more women than men in the world"
Meaning that girls have the power, the ability to change us if they wanted.
But they don't.
They just accept the typical, assholish, jockish brute that treats them like property, a pet, and an imbecilic sack of flesh that they can consummate with as is.
As the way we are supposed to be.
So, that being their mentality, I stop trying.
I don't go out of my way to look especially nice.
I don't go out of my way to be especially different.
I just am (different).
And that is how I portray myself, unapologetically.

"I'm Awake"
I'm alive.
I breathe.
I sleep.
I dream.
I'm not dead or in jail.
I'm not crippled, physically.
Just suffering from ambition, but lack of motivation to achieve.
So teen-like still.
It's amusing and shameful at the same time.
I need to cow-prod myself.

Old Poems

Sep 13, 2010

"She's Out of My Life"

I feel like she is rushing.
Like she's so happy to be rid of me.
Like she's on to the next one and I am just a statistic.
I don't know if my pride will hold. I want to beg her to take me back. Beg like a dog, like a pathetic cat out in the rain.
I need her. Like more than I thought I could another person.
Like I am a fish that has been snatched out of the ocean . . .

"Not In the Figurative"
Literally, my heart hurts. 
I don't feel like someone ripped it out as it's often described, but like there is a void, a fucking hole where it should be. 
I don't want her to hold another man. 
The idea of another man In her arms, of her looking at them with those eyes . . . 
FUCK! 
I hate this. 
I really do. 
I want to hate her so desperately for thinking this is best, but I can't.
I would never wish this on anyone. 
Ever. 
I don't know how I am supposed to live without her. 
And this only day one.

Aug 5, 2010

"Unnamed"
She said that she doesn't doubt that I love her.
No, she said she knows for certain that I love her, completely.
What she fears is that one day I will find someone that I love more.
How baffling is that?
I don't see it happening, but she does.
Like she doesn't think I love her enough or something.
Like I am withholding something from her.
I'm not afraid of commitment.
I'm not super-forward-thinking, but I don't freak out when I think of her as mine; as my life, as my wife.
I know that that isn't for like years, but it doesn't upset me.
Maybe I am just strange.
What does freak me out, is the idea that she doesn't think I love her enough; that I don't show her all the passion and love that I know how.
That I am lax,
Or
Actively seeking or open to someone coming to supplant her.

Jul 22, 2010

"Gravity"
I am playing with fire.
Leaping without looking.
Running with scissors.
Sticking a fork in an electrical outlet.
And I've not been happier. Ever.
When I'm with her, I feel like I can move mountains. Most of the time.
When I'm not, I want to make grand moves to make to her smile.
Sometimes, I think Fate just decided to intervene.
Like it knew that I just was dying, literally, to give away the affection and love that has been building up like a river against a stocked dam.
Like I was a satellite orbiting Earth in the upper reaches, waiting to finally be pulled down by inertia.

"Unnamed"
Sometimes they are emeralds,
Burning with fierce anger.
Sometimes they are sapphires,
Burning with strong determination.
Sometimes they are opals,
Lost with a deep adoration for me.
Sometimes they are a full spectrum,
Telling me that I am the light of her world, that I am hers, alone; that I am good.