I am having trouble believing there is any hope left in the world. I am slowly realizing that there probably isn’t going to be a happy ending. As soon as I solve one problem, the minimal dash of happiness it produces retreats to allow space for a new and improved problem. A problem with super powers. A problem I am too weak to solve. I would really love for my world to be at rest for a while. I want to have one thing work my way. I would love to stop being pessimistic about one thing.
Not just anything, mind you, but this one particular thing. It isn’t a problem just yet, but I expect it will soon become one. I do believe that I have allowed complications to rise in that I need more. I need an emotion connection with someone, anyone more than anything. I need to feel wanted. I need to feel desired. I need to know I’m not alone here. I need to know I’m not a mistake. I need to not be another chapter. I need to be the grand ending that you anticipate for pages. I need to know that you want the same thing.
This is more. I’m not asking, I am telling you: THIS IS MORE. I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it in your touch. You can try to hold it back and hide it, but I see more in you than just lust. Can I be the one to fix you? Are you going to let that happen? Can you open your mind to me, even just for a second? Just to let me know I am not going crazy, that I am not hallucinating all the signals you keep sending, that you really do want to hold me and know I am yours.
I want to be yours. Even just for a minute. I want a label to paste on my forehead. I want everyone know that I am proud to have you and that I accept your flaws. I want to watch you flaunt me, and accept everything I am so good at doing wrong. I want the chance to scare you away with all my craziness. I want to start a forever with you, even if it’s temporary.
Because where I sit right now, I can’t imagine us becoming nothing. We work so well together. We are success for each other.
Or perhaps I really am delusional and I am creating a fantasy from our friendship. Perhaps you are just a kind face. A gentle shoulder to turn to when I am in need. Perhaps I need to adjust the focus and realize there is no hope in the world. There are no happy endings. You aren’t my happy ending. You aren’t how I start my forever.
Or maybe you are.
I suppose I will never know if I don’t ask…
And the plot is suspended.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Can I Be Your Game Changer?
Why are you afraid of me?
I am not the same as the others.
I’m not a monster.
I vindicate my species and beg you for a chance to prove you wrong.
Why wouldn’t you love to be wrong?
Are you convincing me, or yourself that this isn’t meant to work?
I feel something when I think of you.
I think it might be hope.
I hope it’s hope.
I’m afraid it’s not.
I want to have the confidence to know that if I walk away you will chase me.
I want to feel your warm brown eyes staring holes in the back of my neck when I leave.
I want you to stop me.
Hold my hand.
Keep me here.
Make me yours.
I want to feel your warmth when I’m alone.
I want stability in this unbalanced life.
I want to play with your hair.
And giggle.
And play like we were children who have never been hurt.
You say I’m still young.
I assume you mean I have time to find better.
But I’m scared that means I’m not good enough.
But I’m not growing younger.
Time is not turning backwards.
And this isn’t going to undo itself.
Can I ask that I be enough?
I am not your monsters.
I’m not going to force you into pain.
I will do my best to not hurt you like we have so often been hurt before.
Can I be your positive experience?
Can I prove you wrong?
Can we make this right?
I am not the same as the others.
I’m not a monster.
I vindicate my species and beg you for a chance to prove you wrong.
Why wouldn’t you love to be wrong?
Are you convincing me, or yourself that this isn’t meant to work?
I feel something when I think of you.
I think it might be hope.
I hope it’s hope.
I’m afraid it’s not.
I want to have the confidence to know that if I walk away you will chase me.
I want to feel your warm brown eyes staring holes in the back of my neck when I leave.
I want you to stop me.
Hold my hand.
Keep me here.
Make me yours.
I want to feel your warmth when I’m alone.
I want stability in this unbalanced life.
I want to play with your hair.
And giggle.
And play like we were children who have never been hurt.
You say I’m still young.
I assume you mean I have time to find better.
But I’m scared that means I’m not good enough.
But I’m not growing younger.
Time is not turning backwards.
And this isn’t going to undo itself.
Can I ask that I be enough?
I am not your monsters.
I’m not going to force you into pain.
I will do my best to not hurt you like we have so often been hurt before.
Can I be your positive experience?
Can I prove you wrong?
Can we make this right?
Love, love, love...
Every story is a love story. Not just the obvious, simple, fairytale romance stories, but every story ever told. There is no life without love. There is nothing without love. It is laced throughout history. It paves the path of the future. It holds the present tightly in its place and keeps the universe’s heart beating. Love is the glue that holds us all together. Love is the selfishness that forces us apart. Love is the fuel for lust. Love is the residue of broken families. Love is in everything. Love surrounds everything. Love is everything.
The different types of love are uncountable. They outnumber the stars and shine brighter than the sun. They are not experienced by all. They are not definable, palpable, sensible, or perfectible by anyone. We chose the number of loves we experience. We chose the degrees to which we feel them. We control the love. We have total power.
There is complete power in the loves we hold. We collect them like cards. We save them like money. We use them like they were disposable. We pretend they are unconditional. We pretend like we don’t notice them. We love ourselves first. We love those who love us second. We love those who refuse to love us third. Then in no particular order we love our clothes, our homes, our cars, our pets, our thoughts, our dreams, our nightmares, our successes, our failures, our connections, our loneliness, etc.
We love to love. We love to hate. We love to laugh. Secretly we love to cry. It’s a power that we love, the ability to love. The power of making people want our love.
This story is a story of love and why it exists and how it fulfills. I believe love might have fallen in love with itself. And that’s why it just won’t die. Love is in love with life. And as long as it is breathing, no one is safe. Because in one form or another, love will find and possess your life. It will creep through your veins like vines on bricks. It will force upon you a power you will never fully understand. But that is why we love it.
The different types of love are uncountable. They outnumber the stars and shine brighter than the sun. They are not experienced by all. They are not definable, palpable, sensible, or perfectible by anyone. We chose the number of loves we experience. We chose the degrees to which we feel them. We control the love. We have total power.
There is complete power in the loves we hold. We collect them like cards. We save them like money. We use them like they were disposable. We pretend they are unconditional. We pretend like we don’t notice them. We love ourselves first. We love those who love us second. We love those who refuse to love us third. Then in no particular order we love our clothes, our homes, our cars, our pets, our thoughts, our dreams, our nightmares, our successes, our failures, our connections, our loneliness, etc.
We love to love. We love to hate. We love to laugh. Secretly we love to cry. It’s a power that we love, the ability to love. The power of making people want our love.
This story is a story of love and why it exists and how it fulfills. I believe love might have fallen in love with itself. And that’s why it just won’t die. Love is in love with life. And as long as it is breathing, no one is safe. Because in one form or another, love will find and possess your life. It will creep through your veins like vines on bricks. It will force upon you a power you will never fully understand. But that is why we love it.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Unfathomed
teach me to be beautiful
help me to catch it in a bottle
help me to never use it up
teach me to be beautiful
as beautiful as you
deeper than the skin
drenched in flawless beauty
teach me to be beautiful
help me bottle it up
help me to use it sparingly
long into my old age
tell me all the secrets
give me the tools of the trade
teach me to be beautiful
and I will never ask anything
more
help me to catch it in a bottle
help me to never use it up
teach me to be beautiful
as beautiful as you
deeper than the skin
drenched in flawless beauty
teach me to be beautiful
help me bottle it up
help me to use it sparingly
long into my old age
tell me all the secrets
give me the tools of the trade
teach me to be beautiful
and I will never ask anything
more
Fornever
We belong together
You and I
We are forever
If there were a forever
If we knew what forever was
Or when it began
If it begins
When it ends
I want it to be with you
That’s so hard to think
Let alone make a sound
And I feel the complication rising
And I don’t care
I don’t care how hard my heart will hit the floor
We will watch it shatter
Together we will pretend I am fine
Or will you surprise me
You will fix me
Please
I need to be fixed more than you
More than I know I am broken
More than you’ve ever been broken
We belong together
You and I
Could be forever.
You and I
We are forever
If there were a forever
If we knew what forever was
Or when it began
If it begins
When it ends
I want it to be with you
That’s so hard to think
Let alone make a sound
And I feel the complication rising
And I don’t care
I don’t care how hard my heart will hit the floor
We will watch it shatter
Together we will pretend I am fine
Or will you surprise me
You will fix me
Please
I need to be fixed more than you
More than I know I am broken
More than you’ve ever been broken
We belong together
You and I
Could be forever.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Our Father...
Am I a bad person, for feeling this way?
Listening to you talk about your father and wondering if I will be telling the same horror stories oneday, it makes me sad.
I was once fearful for the younger offspring, but I see the way you love her. I feel the way she has no fear for you.
It's different with her. You are different now.
You say you are fearful that I resent you, and you are right. I resent you. You ruined the way I see all men. You killed the way I feel respect. If you could do it over, you say, you would... I know you would be the same. It wasn't the change in you father, it was the me that was the problem.
You always ask why I hate you. You always ask what you can do to make me like you.
Just stop wondering. The damage is done. There is no reversing the way you have made me feel.
If I am a bad person, I will just have to live with it.
And so will you.
Listening to you talk about your father and wondering if I will be telling the same horror stories oneday, it makes me sad.
I was once fearful for the younger offspring, but I see the way you love her. I feel the way she has no fear for you.
It's different with her. You are different now.
You say you are fearful that I resent you, and you are right. I resent you. You ruined the way I see all men. You killed the way I feel respect. If you could do it over, you say, you would... I know you would be the same. It wasn't the change in you father, it was the me that was the problem.
You always ask why I hate you. You always ask what you can do to make me like you.
Just stop wondering. The damage is done. There is no reversing the way you have made me feel.
If I am a bad person, I will just have to live with it.
And so will you.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Misplaced Misfortune
I was trapped in a car for days with the family. It wasn't so bad, but I felt creative the entire ride, crossing state boarders and smelling weather changes. All I wanted to do was write. And alas I was trapped with no outlet for the words swimming through my veins.
I regret it now, because there is nothing left of those thoughts. They are long gone, littered among the state lines and left in the warmth that isn't induced by a wood stove.
I am sure they are happier there. And who knows, maybe I will come across them on the journey home. But for the time being I am left voiceless.
So I will discontinue this attempt at reviving those thoughts.
I regret it now, because there is nothing left of those thoughts. They are long gone, littered among the state lines and left in the warmth that isn't induced by a wood stove.
I am sure they are happier there. And who knows, maybe I will come across them on the journey home. But for the time being I am left voiceless.
So I will discontinue this attempt at reviving those thoughts.
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