Elucidating Questions

As the heart thuds and the yearning grows.

The need and the want to be near and to see something real. To feel touch and hear sound that isn’t artificial or recorded.

Wanting to hold hands and pet hair and stroke cheeks and kiss lips.

Hear a laugh or words. Laugh myself and say words not practised or canned.

The automatic responses of every day life, the want to be real. The want to be near.

The urge to cut through it all and insist.

Pull you in and hold you close until there is no maybe or no or left or right or up or down or male or female or gay or straight.

There’s only two people, existing happily.

If only it could be so easy. If only life was so easy. If only you could bend the rules. If only there were no rules.

If only love could conquer anything, if only it could overcome anything, if only you loved me.

I’ve been pacing this room in my heart in search of an answer.

This room where it’s you and me.

The never ending rhythm where the walls are so high.

But they tumble down in the night, the inbetween dreams I wake.

Time moves on, as the days go by,

I tried to stay awake but, I

Lost myself along the way, lost the key to the room, got lost without you.

I just want to go, can’t I go?

Can I beg on my knees? Wrap around your feet?

Don’t go, don’t leave. I’ll miss you, I’ll miss you, please.

The walls come down, the room falls in, when can this begin?

I would let you in, you always win.

If you could see, where would you want to be?

Spinning and turning, unconscious yearning. Even as the words don’t come, the feeling stays.

It’s a different one, this time with less disregard for the sickness that came.

Another time another place, they walk by, they look and feel.

The place that feels best for a headache and a comfort for the feeling of being sick and alone.

It makes it better, if there’s a fever it’s easier, I can hear and listen,

To the one who makes me feel safe.

If it’s clear, the skies are not, but the place is every day, and the time is anywhere.

Waiting for something, trying to stay awake.

Take a breath and feel some calm. This feeling of going too fast and too far. This feeling of having experienced it before and having been stuck on it.

Everything you need to you. A bit of rain, some sun, some air. Too much too long and you’ll burn out.

Bringing down the heat and the tumbling discontrol.

The thoughts as they come and go, in and out like breaths and waves.

The dizzying feeling of far too much, far to fast.

Relax.

Slow down.

Fevered thoughts, cold rooms, hard chairs.

Needles, pokes, prods, questions. Many questions.

Sitting, waiting thinking in silence as the pain seers through.

Blankets and kind people, a blur of names not remembered, but appreciated.

Tests and tests and tests.

Time spent wishing for a hand to stroke the hair or a distraction to talk to and feel more solid.

Ears ringing. Nothing serious, but the pain is real, nothing serious but the fever is real, nothing serious but the exhaustion is real.

Nothing serious, but the loneliness was real.

Until there was someone to talk to.

May have purposefully jinxed his sport to get the attention, worth it to have someone to talk to while the last few hours ticked on.

Exhaustion.

No patience. No ability to remember what isn’t there, but I always remember you are.

In the words’ best moments. In the songs from the stories and the things I don’t know.

Isn’t it better, to not know anything, than to know too well?

Except it’s the doubt, the doubt doesn’t know you. When I am awake, I know you well. You make me smile, no matter what.

In the moments it hurts and all I have is self hate, I know I twist and turn the words to say the wrong words again, but please,

Even if there were tears at midnight I still have this awful disease of not wanting to be, but needing and wanting too.

This duality I am stuck to, the fish on the loom.

If I could find you an animal, but then what would it be? I’d worry it’s not right.

I’m just watching, I’m allowed to want right?

I still love him, every sight, even just knowing he was the one typing…

It’s so messed up.

It’s so messed up how much I want him.