Wrote this last night. I was a bit depressed; but I still find this moving. Because- in reality- this is sometimes how I feel.
It is a love poem- deep down somewhere. It skips between me telling said person things, and explaining it to an outside other person. I think you can figure out which is which.
I almost want to show this boy this poem. Parts, at least. So he knows…but at the same time, I don't want to overwhelm him. I have to wonder, though, if he already knows?
Got inspirtation from a lot of places. But mostly, it's rambling. But I like it.
Perhaps I will do more like this in the future. Hmm…
Well, on with the poem.
Why do we dance? Sashay 'round each other
Like we're jagged edges of broken glass
Or a type of incurable disease, deadly poison
Take a bite- only to fall dead?
Or perhaps it's that we are ticking time bombs
And we wait for the clap of sound
Sting of shrapnel
And red air
We paint our faces with porcelain. Then act so
Each word is so careful because dare
We raise our voices louder they crack; and the ink runs down our face.
To be strong is to know when to cry.
Crying is not weakness.
Crying is when you've been too strong for too long. But,
You never know how strong you are, until you have no other choice.
They say love hurts.
But that's the only way to know if it's real.
I'll keep dancing. Keep painting. Keep pretending.
Because I love you
I breathe because you do. I fight each shadow because you are alive. There each day; don't you know I live for those moments? Lasting glances, feeling you so close. Knowing that you're alive and well and there
Because that's really all I need to keep going.
A sage mind knows that it's darkest before dawn.
The bleeding sun must set to rise.
Virtuoso; I whisper.
My whole body lights up with fire when you play.
Spider fingers ghosting over slates of ebony and ivory.
The haunting melodies. That comfort. That gives doors to other worlds.
But you haven't played in such a long time.
Red roses bloom on pale skin.
The juxtapose of ashen, trembling flesh and crimson stain.
The pulsing indigo and sapphire veins bulge beneath the surface, like a tiny heartbeat.
A shuddering breath threatening- no prophesying- tears to follow.
You hover. Haunt.
And my soul cries; mine! You're mine!
But no one hears the silent scream.
Some days I feel so compressed and suffocated. I feel like exploding, but no one cares.
The music- our link- is the only thing keeping me sane.
That and a pen.
So I blast it loud enough to break an ear drum and write and write and write…
No one is every truly happy.
We always say;
I was almost happy again.
But never say;
I was almost depressed again.
It's always just…
I am depressed.
Perhaps it's in human nature to see the glass ½ empty.
God. Merlin. Circe. Heaven sakes-Batman!- if you'll listen…
I love him so much. I do. I love him.
He doesn't see it. Not yet.
Sometimes, it feels as though I wade through bricks to break that shell he's put up.
He doesn't even realize he's built a fortress around himself.
But I will find a way through.
To find someone that makes the sun always shine is hard. To find the soul to fit yours; that one person; is magic.
And I know it's him because of the empty spaces he fills effortlessly.
It's a war every night.
We are both lions
Restless and arrogant; our pride is the only thing we know.
Who's to surrender first?
Be strong; don't give in! I say: you've done so much already!
One day…I know you will be first.
And I will not be the one to cave (even though sometimes it's so wonderful when I do)
But not today.
Today I loose.
And count the scars of memories past I own!
G's- his was deep. C's too. But yours…
You're my true first.
The others are scabs and mars but not true scars with the ragged skin and great stories.
They hold no experience to share.
Am I yours?
Perhaps they do have their stories- as no mark can come to being without it so-but not like yours.
And I want this one to not remind me of whom I was, who I wanted to be, who I was not; the empty left untouched.
Blaze and burn my soul.
Too long did I live without confidence.
Now when I talk, I don't stutter.
I stand tall.
I do not hold myself back.
I am human and I live.
Sometimes, I like to think it's because of you.
I was the one no one knew.
You were the one no one took the time to know.
You're so deep; like I.
We hide an abyss beneath cool glances and quiet walls of secrecy.
While I pour the darkness and feeling onto paper
You do so with music.
Because just like a few words
A chord or notes
Say more than a thousand words.
The way our gazes meet make the ice melt.
I am called the cold, the untouchable, the ice girl.
But sometimes even I long for summer.
I think we are both afraid.
To love someone else.
To be vulnerable.
Which is why we belong.
Introverted…you know me better than I know myself.
But Hell! I'll take the chance.
Don't have me hand over my heart
So you can break it.
To wonder 'what if' is pointless.
Because that one tiny thing-
As insignificant as changing a grade on a test
Remembering to text someone
Choosing not to stop at my locker that day
Could change it so horribly
So that I never met you.
And I will take every heartbreak
And I will never wonder what could have been
Because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me
And I'll be damned if I let it slip away
Today you were distant.
Probably no more than three feet between our desks
But it could have been miles
Because that's what it felt like
You didn't stop. You didn't talk. Lifeless.
Today, they gave the the 7 before you- because seven has always been THE number-
C. C. G. A. T. M. B.
Seven that once before, a simple greeting would have had me skipping with glee.
But it didn't mean a thing.
So many chances today, but I don't care.
Do you realize what this means?
Seven could not replace one.
Seven could not replace you.
You are the one.
We may be learning, still. But life is a lesson.
We care more than others do.
But we are afraid.
6 billion people.
And my heart still tells me;