Feeling alone with my desires

I believe that if you love someone, you tell them.
If you want to be with them, you tell them.
If you are with them, you dream of them.
If they walk by your side, you touch them.
You touch in joy, in desire, in happiness. You touch to reaffirm that you desire them. You touch in public. So called public displays of affection are just demonstrations that love should not be contained. And if someone doesn’t like it, well, fuck them.

I prefer my relationships to be shouted from the rooftops. I prefer that we love out loud and loudly at the same time. Little secrets are for little children. If you are mine, then You Are Mine. I love with fierce passion.

I don’t understand walking without touching. Without seeing them out of the corner of your eye and pushing them to the wall and kissing them. Or pulling them as close as possible until someone shouts “get a room”.

I want to whisper poetry and hear your voice and your words. I want you to fall asleep at my side and wake knowing that you are loved.

If you have a dark side, I’ll match you step for step.

Join me, dance with me, love with me. I’ll do my level best to not dissapoint.

Want a vacation?

My brain feels empty after poetry month. I am trying to think about what poem to write and can’t figure out what to write. I could force one. I think we’ve all seen that I can do that in the last month. But I don’t wanna. What I really want is to just be for awhile. Just sit and watch the trees. And just drift. Maybe read a little, maybe blast VNV Nation. Hang out. Play some Cards against humanity with friends. Just not think.

Unexpected wrecking ball

I’m looking at my phone. It’s with me all the time with the Internet and Facebook and games and texts. And I’m thinking, there is nothing this phone can do that can distract me from this pain. There is nothing it can do to give a moment of peace. Nothing that gives hope. Nothing that gives purpose.

Just this endless pablum of white noise that does nothing to stop the screaming voice that sobs out, “You are unwanted. Unloved. What are you still doing here.”
And I think of the people I could reach out to and just who would that be? It’s not ok. It’s not going to be OK. I’ve had my fill of I know what you’re going through or I wish you didn’t know what that feels like. I am going through it. I do know what it feels like. The only thing that stops it is when I don’t feel alone. This is just what is. I try my damndest. But I’m right back where I started. If anything, more bruised and jaded.
Nothing is good, nor will it ever be again. That’s what today feels like.

Immovable object

I love you
I love you
I love you
I hear your voice…I love you
I see you smile…I love you
You retreat under your hoodie…I love you
You send me a picture of a baby Fenix fox…I love you
Your face lights up when you see me…I love you
You don’t think you want to hear it…I love you
You push me away…I love you
I can’t stop this…I love you
You are more amazing each day…I love you
We stop speaking each day…. I love you
I see your name… I love you
I love you
I love you
I love you
Its been months, I just can’t stop.
I love you

 

Note: I regret posting this.  Not because it is not true. But because I posted in a vulnerable moment without consideration of wider implications.  I won’t pull it down. It scares me that it is up. I’m afraid of who will see it and what things they may conclude. So I’m afraid and as such it stays.