why do we do this to ourselves?
if i didn't love you, you would know
you leave me in such a vacuum
each time i say goodbye
how do you manage to string words
that leave you beyond me
each time
can you breakaway from that smile
you say i play these games ?
put me beyond your deceit, but not beyond you
I will stop asking these questions
When my heart reconciles itself to the fact that all lost was not in love. It will.
between me and you, I am awfully sad.
I perhaps read a page in time that was yet to be written
I am my own eulogy
Written, practiced and delivered several times.
My epithets carved in stone
Words unspoken, lives unlived, all withheld.
Such reticence, such quiet and calm I hope to be
That as I lay rest awake, people, and life
Are awed by the scale of tragedy
There is some hope
As the flame warms your eyes
I collapse behind those white walls
As I leave behind the safety offered through formality of life..
the formality....whisked in a wok of words
I will simply put it:
I love you.
And have missed you.
Even if it does make you cringe to believe in my words.
This is not a love song
Or a preface to a help-yourself, help-yourself handbook
This is me.
And, that which never will be: you.
what a lonely place
As I hold you in these arms
Your calm swallows me whole
And then, you fade away
Like melting glass cascading most beautifully
You turn, you walk away, run perhaps
And no call will ever bring you back
And that is which I fear with such vengeance
sleep haunts me
hours, for nights gone by
I lecture, I teach;
I answer, I reason;
I quiz, I endeavor;
I smile,I lie
I ask with abandon give me back my yesterday
Or a memory that might.
It was a slap in the face how quickly I was defined
A few five words put you beyond me
And with such aplomb, it amazes me.
But I do believe
With some perverse sense of deceit
in sincerity
Life does come full circle
Loving someone has come to mean
Letting some one Else
Love them more
There are questions of reason, of time
Are there any answers?
It is a curse. You tell me
This constant of inquisition.
I tell you.
And here, I try to play these foolish games
I, me, myself.
my sense of unchanging calm has been shattered.
reason and beyond
eleven syllables, five words.
your one sentence
has put you beyond me
you push me back to the start
stop
were i you