Beauty in the Breakdown

States of normality - brief hints of frantic pain.
Beauty in the breakdown - your face, your voice.
I look upon you and ponder if you feel the same agony as I do.

Red stains in the eyes - the collision of the heart and the brain.
The same war with yourself, as you stop, halt, then go.
The same clash of notions stirring within your head.

I am speaking in riddles and answering in paradoxes.
I proclaim that I must have you but I can't bring myself to you.
I tell you that I want you, yet I am not even worthy of you.

Lightless nights, and starless dawns - I count within the tip of my fingers.
Time itself is moving in such swift, cruel fashion.
But nothing is changing, though I tell myself it is for the better.

Nothing is driving me closer to you.
No amounts of pithing rage, blinding want or states of depression - ever will.

I may not know why you can laugh and how you can smile - but I know that it hurts.
It pains me so to see you in such happiness, while I in such misery.

I am breaking into fragments, and losing pieces of myself.
I am in shambles, in ruins, and in shards.
Come to me - look my way and mend me whole again.

You may never understand this filthy ruse of a pain.
But even the very thought of you can bring resolve to this life.
The very sight of you can give me an escape to myself.