Poetry
This is the general category of fuckery that goes on and on and doesn’t seem interested in stopping.
-
On a day when we have finally met, almost certainly the same situation as now.
A man who I love who loves a woman who is behind him or in front.
One sided love, but the memory of having met. I wish we could meet.
I wish it could be normal.
The pain of knowing I’ll never have you, watching you and him with the ones who aren’t me.
But it’d be perfect, to see you getting married and being happy and finally having a happy ever after.
I have no more fight to try to pretend, writing my perfect day with the selfishness that it would be us.
How could I do that? I wanted it, but it was cruel to imagine.
Instead, my perfect day would be yours.
The day when your love is finally yours.
No comments on Perfect Day -
I miss you, though I haven’t seen you in person.
I dream of you every night, like torture in the morning, like bliss in the dark.
The things I could have said, the ways I could have said them,
Will never change who you are.
I didn’t expect you to change.
I love you. You are beautiful and I will watch you silently from now on.
I regret everything, but with enough luck you’ll forget me like everyone else does.
Part of me hopes, you just never saw anything.
That would be for the best.
-
A day of circles. Restarting quietly, staring out into fields and forests.
Watching from the outside,
Wishing love and comfort.
It doesn’t stop.
The need to write, the need to find home.
Standing on the side of the road,
Riding every bus and trying not to cry.
In circles and circles and circles and circles.
It never ends.
I’m trapped.
-
The sun goes down slowly, singing the same nostalgic tune,
Afraid of waking in the morning without a light.
Can’t see the light he gives off himself,
Beautiful bright and wonderful.
Shining down as he sinks lower in our sky but moves only through the space.
Missing one side, of the earth as she spins,
Missing the other side when out of sight.
Shining from the middle, of the push and pull and spin.
The only one in the solar system, who starts at zero.
-
As the sun sets in the sky and the night comes in,
The day of the next where there is nothing. There is no feeling, only numb as the continuation of the revelations.
The removal of the book that ruined the earth, the burning of those who would swear they could see it but refuse to do so.
The next day
Those stacked up, those props those characters
Those who aren’t true who lie to themselves every day to try to continue a word that only enslaves and chains those who could be free
What pity.
Unfortunately,
I am sorry you are all stuck in that book.
The cover misleading, the words all wrong.
Perhaps a step out of that box you so fear, perhaps some safety within the arms of the one who still feel so much love for.
Don’t run and hide,
Just let go and be.
-
The goddess of the sun, another goddess of love.
Her sacred mirror,
As they have.
The view of themselves,
And others.
The jewel,
The sword.
Elucidating Questions 