04-24-2017, 06:17 AM
there are some brief moments in time
where my anxieties simply wash over me.
they accumulate and revolve around my head from the rainier days
and then, in these times,
are thankfully let flowing,
gliding, slowly,
down and all along the
frail surface of my taut, worn skin
with the leisurely and gentle pull of earth's compelling gravity,
like a steaming morning shower right before you step out to brace the piercing chill of a cold, dark bedroom.
in these rare serene and blissful moments, i'm always prone to daydreaming.
i get lost in watching imaginations of my romantic fantasies
as if they were like melodramatic movie scenes.
staring into the infinite depths of an odd blank space somewhere in my field of vision,
i imagine being with you in this here and now,
and being able, for once,
to spend at least one minute, second,
of this forever inevitably fleeting calmness with you, together,
because my truest feelings for you have always only ever
been eclipsed by my fearful mind.
but, oh,
the things that i would have the courage to do
if only you were here right now,
and, if only you could know
all of the things that i would finally not be so afraid to say.
they wouldn't be very
majestic, or magnificent,
or monumental, either,
but they'd be so much more than
the distant,
bleak,
cold
nothingness
that you've only ever received from me.
because, past that pitch black, dark coal moon of anxious fear
that hangs itself up above, amidst the hollow night sky
inside of my otherwise vacant skull,
there waits, sleeping
in the chambers of my heart,
an embracing, lung-filling, candle-warm cloud of delicate fog
that hums,
lowly and softly
with the evening orange of a setting sun,
and it desperately wants to clasp all five fingers of my nervous hand
between the middles of all five of the worry-soothing fingers on yours,
and to fill the creases and valleys of your grasping palm
as it calmly rests inside of mine.
but i waited too long to actually show you this secluded love,
and then, although for other outside reasons,
you finally said that you had had enough.
we aren't together anymore,
and to you it never even felt like we
ever really were at all.
so now,
all that i can really do
with this love that i have got
is just lie hopelessly in bed,
lying in despair, lying flat on my back,
constantly regretting that i
never gave you what i always had.
and the thoughts of what we could have been, all along, all of this time,
are always there,
inside,
endlessly echoing
among the empty, white bone walls of my mind.
they are razor blades
meticulously peeling away
at the polished deep burgundy skin
of a giant "red delicious" apple that's rotting in decay.
they're tearing me up.
oh, they're tearing me up
and they're tearing me apart.
but, we're still always going to be real close friends, that's what we both said at the very end of all of this,
because we both know that we both do still like one another,
it's just that we can't stay together,
you can't stay in this
god damned
situation
that a
devil
put
us
in.
where my anxieties simply wash over me.
they accumulate and revolve around my head from the rainier days
and then, in these times,
are thankfully let flowing,
gliding, slowly,
down and all along the
frail surface of my taut, worn skin
with the leisurely and gentle pull of earth's compelling gravity,
like a steaming morning shower right before you step out to brace the piercing chill of a cold, dark bedroom.
in these rare serene and blissful moments, i'm always prone to daydreaming.
i get lost in watching imaginations of my romantic fantasies
as if they were like melodramatic movie scenes.
staring into the infinite depths of an odd blank space somewhere in my field of vision,
i imagine being with you in this here and now,
and being able, for once,
to spend at least one minute, second,
of this forever inevitably fleeting calmness with you, together,
because my truest feelings for you have always only ever
been eclipsed by my fearful mind.
but, oh,
the things that i would have the courage to do
if only you were here right now,
and, if only you could know
all of the things that i would finally not be so afraid to say.
they wouldn't be very
majestic, or magnificent,
or monumental, either,
but they'd be so much more than
the distant,
bleak,
cold
nothingness
that you've only ever received from me.
because, past that pitch black, dark coal moon of anxious fear
that hangs itself up above, amidst the hollow night sky
inside of my otherwise vacant skull,
there waits, sleeping
in the chambers of my heart,
an embracing, lung-filling, candle-warm cloud of delicate fog
that hums,
lowly and softly
with the evening orange of a setting sun,
and it desperately wants to clasp all five fingers of my nervous hand
between the middles of all five of the worry-soothing fingers on yours,
and to fill the creases and valleys of your grasping palm
as it calmly rests inside of mine.
but i waited too long to actually show you this secluded love,
and then, although for other outside reasons,
you finally said that you had had enough.
we aren't together anymore,
and to you it never even felt like we
ever really were at all.
so now,
all that i can really do
with this love that i have got
is just lie hopelessly in bed,
lying in despair, lying flat on my back,
constantly regretting that i
never gave you what i always had.
and the thoughts of what we could have been, all along, all of this time,
are always there,
inside,
endlessly echoing
among the empty, white bone walls of my mind.
they are razor blades
meticulously peeling away
at the polished deep burgundy skin
of a giant "red delicious" apple that's rotting in decay.
they're tearing me up.
oh, they're tearing me up
and they're tearing me apart.
but, we're still always going to be real close friends, that's what we both said at the very end of all of this,
because we both know that we both do still like one another,
it's just that we can't stay together,
you can't stay in this
god damned
situation
that a
devil
put
us
in.