Why not another one, hm?

I sent you a song the other day. I said I thought you’d like the guy’s voice. You said you’d add it to the list and sent one back.

I listened to it and liked it. I usually do like your suggestions, but I don’t know if I like them because I like them or do I like them because you suggested them. Have you gotten so deep inside that you’re affecting me that much, that I can’t decide whether I’m me or I’m me because of how it relates to you?

The latter would make sense. I’m sure everyone would believe it too.

You never answered whether you liked my suggestion or not. Figures. I’ve always liked you more than you’ve liked me, and I guess that’s the eternity that I’m left to wade through.

I love a girl who doesn’t love me back.

It’s not her fault though.

I’m just tired and I wish I could stop, but love’s hunger is everlasting.

Mosquito Bites

Love is like one of the worst mosquito bites in one of the hardest to reach places.

It’s elusive.  No matter how many times you try to reach love, it always seems like its just outside of your nails.  You claw and dig and fight for it but you can’t quite get the right angle to feel it.  Despite your best efforts you can never grasp love when you’re trying your damn hardest.

And then you rub up against a desk and your ankle nicks the corner then suddenly you feel euphoria.  The feeling is better than anything you ever thought possible while, at the same time, being painful.

Loving someone is letting them hurt you in ways you didn’t know you would hurt.  Not in an intentional way, but in a kind of way where you always want to be around them and know there isn’t enough hours in the day to satisfy your craving.

Love buzzes in your ear.  Love bites.  Love itches.  Love frustrates and infuriates.
At the same time love gives you one of the greatest feelings you could ever imagine.

Love can be quite annoying, but so damn satisfying.
Like scratching an itch from a mosquito bite.

I saw your ghost again

I can’t remember what attraction looked like before your eyes.

I’m haunted by you.

Your lips. Your stare. Your everything.

I can only see you. I think this may be how I serve my sentence. In love with someone who is in everyone, but never her.

Micro Poetry: Move

If you

let it go

the past

only hurts

in the present

Against my better judgement

There are times we must say goodnight to things that once made us happy but have lost the ability to do so.  We often don’t want to, but moving on is the only way to keep the pleasant memories as they are.

If we linger they spoil.

Sometimes a smile is all we have left.

Dear Pablo

Dear Pablo,

I envy the pain that’s ached your life and has carved such beautiful scars.

I wish I could hurt as bad as you have.

To know the ripping contrast of emptiness and burning need

To be haunted by soft lips

To hear the echo of your name in her voice

Frozen at the smell of her perfume.

Dear Pablo,

I wish I could have loved as you have loved

and etched memories in my depths and in my soul.

To know the anger of being forgotten and to tell her I have forgotten her too.

To tell her I don’t feel the pain she caused anymore because

I can’t remember the way we kissed or how it killed me every time.

Dear Pablo,

I will never sing any language as eloquent as you

I can never hope to love a woman with your passion and vigor

All I can dream is that the pains I feel are deep

All I can ask is that when she leaves I’ll know a part of what you suffered.

The heart wants what it wants

May 2017:  What do I want?  You!  When do I want it?  Now!

June 2017:  What do I want?  You!  When do I want it?  Now!

July 2017:  What do I want?  You!  When do I want it?  Now!

August 2017:  What do I want?  You!  When do I want it?  Now!

September 2017:  What do I want?  You!  When do I want it?  Now!

October 2017:  What do I want?  You!  When do I want it?  Now!

November 2017: …

December 2017: …

January 2018:   What do I want?  Everything!  When do I want it?  Now!

February – September 2018: What do I want?  It all to go back to how it was.  When do I want it?  Months ago.

October 2018:  What do I want?  Someone else?  When do I want it?  Now?

November 2018:  What do I want?  I have no idea.  When do I want it?  Now.

December 2018:  What do I want?  You!  When do I want it?  Now!

January 2019:  What do I want?  Nothing to change!  When do I want it?  Forever!

February 2019:  What do I want?  Nothing to change!  When do I want it?  Forever!

March 2019:  What do I want?  These fucking games to end.  When do I want it?  Now!

April 2019:  What do I want?  You, I think.  When do I want it?  I’m not sure anymore.

I Can Cry

I can feel the words

and sometimes they hurt.

I can hear the music

and sometimes its sad.

I can see the end

and sometimes its awful.

I can taste the salt

and sometimes it doesn’t stop.

I can witness the horrors of every day

and sometimes I can cry.

The Hurt

The hurt is the best part of being alive.  So many people try and avoid it because it makes them feel too much, I do quite the opposite.  I run to it with outstretched arms.  I embrace it like the sun in winter.  I roll through it like leaves in the fall.
Anything that can make you feel so deeply should be an experience that requires waiting in a line for over an hour.  Where you ask your friends if they want to join you and even if they say no you head down yourself alone.  You stand with strangers, nervous in your gut but so excited you can’t keep still.
The list of things that people do to themselves that have a terrible effect on their bodies isn’t endless but its enough to fill both hands.  The list of emotions we let in to feel can be balanced on a few fingertips.  We would rather hurt ourselves then feel.  I’d rather feel the hurt than anything else.
Tell me you love someone else after I said I need you.  I’ll smile through it that I made it that far.  Leave me a note saying you can’t stay any longer and disappear from my life forever.  I’ll put it away someplace special and admire the curves of your handwriting whenever I miss you.  I want to hear anything you have to say that’s going to make my heart ache and my soul collapse as long as the words are for me.
I would rather feel like my world is falling apart and nothing will ever be the same again then stuck in a room with white walls and a chair and nothing else.  I would rather look at you for the last time then never see you at all.  Make the pain felt so intense that I can feel everything rather then staring blankly and feeling nothing.
The hurt is the best part of being alive because the hurt means we are alive.  Feeling nothing you might as well be dead.  Being in love is the only hallucinogen I need to see things that aren’t there or miss things I don’t have.  Hurt me.  Make me feel something.  Indulge my pain a little longer.