Unknown Love

Unknown Love

I smell you
but can’t see you
I feel you
but can’t touch you
I hear you
but I can’t hold you

yet I smile
for the warmth
I receive
in the image
I believe
I love you
as you are

angered or calm
happy or sad
hand in hand
as always
even in spirit
I’m your man

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The Ledge

The Ledge

rocking back and forth while
playing love’s dangerous hand
a fix I need flowing
through veins uncertain
if its hit will be my last

as I laid down a life
once before

now not worthy
of a kiss, a hug
but this drug still calls
out to me  subtle
with no remorse
or hope for sobriety

I’m bound
hands and feet
tongue tied

stuck in a past
bloodied by anger and regret
misunderstanding confusion
under the illusion
that you’re there
to catch
me when I fall

Contemplating 2014

It is exactly one week and two days until the new year’s beginning and I’m stuck in a pattern I am trying to break.  I feel like I have been in a continuous time loop of destruction for the last 3 years of my life.  I have come to a lot of realizations about who I am as a man–a person, and I suck. It’s mostly been negative after negative after negative. I’m socially incompetent and my reliance on medicine to think/focus is becoming mundane.  A big part of my existence is my inability to love wholly (one of my strongest desires in life).  I think my best friends put up with me out of necessity. They take care of me, continuing to prove their genuine generosity whenever possible, but I always question my level of appreciation.  I have so much to be thankful for, but my mind won’t allow what it is I’m so desparate to feel. 

Officially, I have lost a woman that I loved beyond anything, yet I got in the way. She did what was best for her and objectively, I can understand the need to get away from an angered, ranging maniac completely; with my cats or what was my cats, by her side. Then after an extensive search, I found someone who could withstand my destruction, yet, I felt myself demeaning her existence. I could see her future self begin to hate me for my lack of love and appreciation, thus, we amicably parted ways.  She was the next best thing to my relationship norm, yet, I found ways to be ungrateful and pushed myself to be aggravated and annoyed by the smallest things.

So as I look to revamp my existence and find purpose in my personal life, maybe I should come to realize that what I truly desire isn’t the appreciation of someone else, but for my inner workings to appreciate itself.

Journal Entry #23

Not sure what the proper protocol is for loving women I have been in relationships with, obviously.  However, Veronica is different. She always has been, I just didn’t know how to show it completely when we were together. 

This is all coming from multiple places; I woke up this morning thinking about her and the love I feel for her alone (not Kahlo and Piper. I often group my feelings for them together so I don’t have to focus on it too much).  My continued progress in dealing with my emotions has also increased my objectivity.  I don’t want to seem disrespectful by texting or calling her saying I love you.  This is totally based on my improvement in assessing myself and feelings. I realize that I don’t love a lot of people so to erase someone that I do, hurts so much.  Again, how I feel about Veronica is unlike any other; my ability to feel something without anger has shown me that.  I constantly worry about her safety and whether or not she is happy, and I contain my love  for her out of respect for our relationships with other people.

I don’t want disrespect anyone, but I love her so much so, I should be able to tell her. I guess another issue is I’m not sure if she even cares about me at all, at this point.  That’s another post though.

Once Upon A Time

Once Upon A Time

I kissed tears away
and took hands
when they were cold
blew the warmth
of a smile
on your face knowing
I was the perfection
you craved

and once upon a time
mistakes couldn’t cut
that deep
exposing flaws
of love mixed and mastered
over trial and error

then resentment took
your mind on this roller coaster
of choices
no longer a pick
in this fantasy draft

detached from sweet kisses
and a touch causing
eyes to dilate
subtle back rubs relaxed
spasms brought
on by our passion

your gift and curse
left washed up
on the curbs
of these dirty streets
when apologies don’t provide
leverage on this climb
back to my rightful place
in your heart

Journal Entry #19

So I’ve been working on a lot of poetry lately; nothing I can really iron out to completion.  My thoughts have been so scattered and I have been feeling sadder than normal.  That’s really saying a lot. I just can’t seem to grasp this concept of being lonely even when I’m in the company of others. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.  I keep spazing out in my head and freaking out and then I’m fine.  I’m sure it is partly this whole moving thing, but I am really worried about my constant need for people and the means I will/have gone to, to keep at least person around me at all times.  Treading water can be a very dangerous thing.  Here’s to hoping I make it to dry land soon.

Journal Entry #18

Today, I was just walking down the street and felt an overwhelming sense of failure–sadness. I don’t know why I keep having these days/moments of going in and out of this state of being. I am tired of being beaten down by myself, but I don’t know how to stop. I am tired of crying, but look for anything to supplement my agony because apparently, I believe I deserve to be in this state of torment. I drink myself stupid then take anxiety pills to chill me out. That’s not a good option, I know, but it is what works at the moment. Then again, that’s the problem with a moment, they don’t last. I am a time bomb and I can hear the slow ticking and it just takes the smallest thing to set me off when I’m in that moment of despair. Raging beast lives within my mirrored image, ready to ripe to shreds any inanimate object just so I won’t hurt someone physically. The flesh on my bones are rough from the years of pain my body has gone through. Others, I don’t know their struggles; their lives might not have been cursed like mine and maybe their skin isn’t so tough. Out of fear of their safety, I retreat into myself—fueling the bomb that wants to explode. I do have will power and control. With the help of therapy, I know that now, but who knows how long I will be able to hold onto a system that is merely a façade for who I really am. This demon living in this broken body waiting to be let out of its core to experience the world the way it was supposed to be lived. The only thing that I want is to be happy, but that is the one and only thing that I can’t have. I don’t know how to be. I can tell someone I love them, but how real is it? In my head, I see these things as fantasies. In reality, I want to be left alone, but I’m plague by the excessive banging in my own head; telling me to cut deep and breath, run away and leave this crap behind. I ask myself where can a person run to, to get away from his/herself? Thus, I end up walking around aimlessly. If I’m lucky, I have a car at my disposal to distill my solitude behind metal framing. At least, I can find comfort in a roomy vehicle and, of course take the stress off my legs.

The things I think about are unnatural. They always have been. Too afraid to share, too disturbed personally, to really care what the world thinks of me. I’m a walking contradiction that has no real hope of ever achieving peace because this demon inside me, as strong and persuasive, will not allow me to go on my merry way of living a “normal” life. I have suffered my entire life for one thing or another, why should this be any different? Maybe peace isn’t something I should be after or can truly obtain. Maybe, a better quest would be to find out–what is the real picture, the painting behind it’s rundown replica that I have created for myself? Who am I am really?