In the last four years I have experienced pains that I never thought would come to me. I have felt the searing flames of over-active nerve endings fire off throughout my body. I have taken steps that felt like red-hot coals replaced the cool hospital floors. I have felt the sting of countless needles failing to find their mark, wriggling around in a futile effort to find the crimson life. I have felt the clawing ache of ruined joints, making an effort to dissuade my every move. I have felt the burning sensation of medicine meant to eradicate invasions, slowly atrophy my veins to uselessness. I have felt what happens when the needle meant to find the fluid, finds the spine instead. Through all of that, never has anything hurt more, than loving a person that will always try to keep you close, yet make you feel so far away.
You might have loved me, for a moment,
That day you read what I wrote to you,
when you were beside yourself with
You’ve never been talked to that way,
you said to me.
“why are you always so good to me?”
you asked sweetly.
“Because I love you”
I said, with a swollen heart.
“I love you too!”,
You beamed with emphasis,
but it must have been,
only for a moment.
Because all things fall apart,
When they’re held together with,
Stars and heavy heart.
I saw you for the first time in nearly a year,
It was bittersweet, as most moments
Have been since the clock struck midnight,
Sealing the fate of the world indefinitely.
I couldn’t see your smile, but your eyes
Sparked a fire in my heart as of old.
Your warmth from six feet away,
Could set ablaze even the iciest soul.
It took everything in me to not close the gap,
to be the irresponsible one for once.
For so long I hid behind that veil of virtue,
Because I was terrified,
Of what might lay beyond the truth.
And yet here we are, in limbo,
Waiting for the sirens to die down,
And the world to speed up again.
If it must hurt, let it be quick.
And if it finds our hearts entwined,
let us not waste a moment.
Yet here we are, six feet apart,
So close to the answers,
Yet insufferably far.
O this ache has found new depths
Burrowing deeper with every second
Spent in exile from your caress.
I haven’t a clue if I have spoken
Out of term, or have I broken
Some trust you thought I’d earned?
O how I wish you’d tell me dear,
Why it is you refuse to come near,
When just days before,
On our warm golden shore,
We drank the stars to our delight
Until the pale silver light,
Of a full moon bathed your skin
In an ethereal glow.
O how I wish you’d come back
To the ways of yesterday
O how I wish, how I wish…
Before I fall too far, away from you
Before the weight of loneliness,
Implodes, rending my heart in two.
My love is a prescription drug
It’s full of cautions and side effects,
Warning of overdose.
It can heal and it can destroy
Though mostly it destroys me…
It was another fever dream
A bender loosening slowly,
Then tearing out the seam.
The yarn ain’t flowin’ true
When the tale has two ends
And it all ends in a feud
But what’s a man to do,
When his lover loves another
And no quick thinking
Will make it untrue?
What’s a man to do.
The ache he feels spreads to his fingertips
From the core of a beating crimson heart,
It eats away at him from the inside.
Rapidly expanding like a sheet of ice.
When time and time again he fails
And time and time again he tries
His heart, a broken furnace, seized mid-rhyme
As icicle thoughts plunge through gray matter
And limbs lose momentum with each stride,
The life he once knew, never seemed further
Or more difficult to hide.
All waking hours blur
Into a seamless night.
No matter the sun’s dominance
In an azure hued sky,
The dreams reclaim me
Nor any hope sparks a light.
When you see yourself through the distorted lens of depression, you have trouble recognizing your own reflection. You can’t see the seam separating your normal self from the irrational being that calls you its host, and shows none of the courtesies a guest should uphold. The lines blur, and all that’s left is a pain that washes over your heart like a malevolent wave lapping upon your withered soul; a pulsating ache that ebbs with the ever-changing tide of humanity.
His self-esteem lies in a fetid puddle
Staring up at him in longing
Wishing to restore its place.
He tries to cup it within his palms,
To drink and in turn reinvigorate.
Alas, like all things in his life
He grimly watched his salvation
Trickle slowly through stiff fingers
As though his skin turned to stone
And soon, his heart followed.
For swiftly the tears of regret
Flow like Neptune’s sea
From burning eyes,
Eroding his grip and
Withering away his heart,
All hope is swept away
With the ebbing tide.