I Miss This Pair

I Miss This Pair

I miss this pair
opposite in their care
equal in love shared

broken at the hem
angered depression caused
the lost of what I hold most dear
never contemplated the fear
my ears could no longer hear
their purrs as I stroked gently

I miss this pair
opposite in their care
equal in their love shared

as one licked my face
good morning
paws pat face gaining
attentive smiles

the other, rest
comfortably on laps
up in arms ready
for cuddles

I miss this pair
for they showed
me a heart was always there

in darkness
when tears streamed random
I found comfort
in their presence
right there lying
next to my spirit
as though they knew
it was broken

without them I found
the formula for lonely
can’t replace
what time won’t forget

opposite in care
but always equal
in love shared

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

Putting It on the Table

The hardest thing to do is to ask for help when you can’t fathom why you need it.

This has been a struggle for most of my life. In one form or another, I have always shied away from help.  It made me feel weak and worthless; as though I didn’t have the power to stand on my own feet. I have had people helping me since my earliest memories without justification.  I’m disabled, not broken, I can do it.  Well, in fact, I do and have felt broken a lot in the past. My belief that I was put

in the wrong body, led down the wrong path and quite possibly, given the wrong support team has cultivated my modern day depression/anxiety cocktail.  Drowning in pills and knife play has burrowed its way into the background of my life–for which I have grown accustomed, but feel guilty at the same time.

My strive for perfection has always been a hindrance to my personal and social growth.  The ideology that I have created; this creed to never make the same mistake twice overwhelms me with pressure and now the blurred lines I have crossed with certain loved ones have left me lonely and confused.

I believe that I have been preconditioned to see only the negative in everything that I or anyone else does.  The belief that I’m so great is a facade for the fact that I’m scared of everything in life.  The anger I utilized as fuel to push my way out is the same emotion I used to keep me stagnate.  The secret belief of feeling undeserving of love, the inability to start/finish anything I am truly passionate about consistent adds to my inability to relate to others until it’s too late.

The biggest problem I have is that I am objectively aware that I have a problem without a true means to find solace or resolution–whichever is easiest to find that I live happily with.  Even with a therapist who listens and cares, I am missing something that I have been looking for my entire existence, self-acceptance.  I have learned that neither a girlfriend, boyfriend, lover, friend, family member, therapist or medicine can provide me wholly.  This one is my sole responsibility that I try hard everyday, not to let take me to the dark, deep hole I can’t crawl out from.

I used to think I didn’t need help. That I was strong enough everything thrown at me. I am wise enough to know better, through trial and error, love and lost.  I have reached out for help, it just hasn’t reached back.

This Demise

This Demise

I lay folded
in a fetal position inside
the box of my brain pumping
enough toxins to fill the Atlantic
damaged by my own hand

so I cut that fleshy disease
out of me only for it to regenerate
fueling the demon I work
so hard to cease from existing

I stay restless
on these tear-stained sheets
an empty vodka bottle cupped
in the bend of my arm
flooding memories of smiles
I’ve misplaced
drown me to complacency
this settling of destruction fed
by laughs–a touch I’ve wished
to forget

When the Love is Gone

When the Love is Gone

cut veins to bleed
out the love unwanted
but too drained to reach
for the needle and thread

told wounds would heal
in time
subdued by a  mental restraint cloaking tears I should have cried

wasted two good years paralyzed
by the inactivity
of  a heart clenched
by someone that can’t go
pound for pound
round for round

I’ve proved my fight
for a soul I deemed
delicate has daggers
of her own
a direct hit in the chest
yet I still stand breathing
for a  chance to atone
for the attention
I only provided
in the image of my intention

this decision
not worthy in your eyes
so you cross train others
to fill a void I can’t

heartbreak uneven
a better deal
for the better half

Psychopathic Delusion

Psychopathic Delusion

deep in the iridescent
colors of your eyes
I believe you want me
expressive in a touch
all over someone else
you think of me and dream
of butterflies
when our lips meet
how our breathing lapses
time continuing
to define existence
without me present

I dream of your touch
when I see you with him
seen you with them
the rage barely boiled
over, simple with control
nothing between us
can turn to dust

for within me
you breathe constant
running through my mind
your smile, a template
for any that follow
will never make the grade
to love fully is now
a mistake

Love’s Dilemma

Love’s Dilemma

not safe in a grasp
of unsteady hands ready
to spill destruction
over everything it touches

so I’m left with nothing fighting battles in different war zones
and its mostly within me
can’t you hear screaming?

breaking down walls
to build them up tall
then watch them fall
at the sight of it all

this rhythmic pattern circles
my life pulls me like magnates
but which way is right?

my mind tells me love is
my heart tells love hurts
my eyes tell me love shows
but only my soul really knows

in its purest fashion
of something intangible caressing my shoulders causing
eyelids to flutter at its lost

the search continues to feel again but at what cost
when instability settles
in my direction at each corner
of Heartbreak and Disaster

You’re Just an Ex, What Did You Expect

I needed closure, but I never expected the door to the love I have held so close for so long to get slammed in my face. It took a couple of weeks to work up my nerves to text her and that granted me a 45 minute conversation that left no hint of remorse and listening to phrases such as “yes, you did a lot for me after we broke up, but what do you think I owe you.” I have never known my nerd to be so cold-hearted. Her parents racist demeanor and overall hatred towards me for at least the first 2 years of our relationship, in her mind, should have had no impact on my anger even though I wanted to be accepted by them. She said they didn’t like me because they knew about my first girlfriend, years ago, that developed into one of my best friends. I didn’t know that confusion or dislike was in direct correlation with racism, but I must have been mistaken. I remember when we first met, we would have to sneak phone calls and when they found out, they would argue and take her phone away so she couldn’t talk to me. I’m pretty sure that my first girlfriend, years ago, wasn’t a factor in those types of behaviors, but I digress.

She told me she was in a different place now, which I can understand, however, the disrespect behind her tone–it was just jarring for me; my wake up call so to speak. I wanted to get coffee and talk (when we broke up and she wanted to rekindle things, she invited me for a drink–I guess I was thinking something similar without the rekindling.) I love her so much, I was willing to settle to just be in her life. My text to her was “I still love you. Is it possible to grab coffee soon.” Not have sex or kiss or talk about anything that remotely would make her uncomfortable as I know she is in a relationship. I have nothing against this guy. A couple of years back, when she was in college, once the three of us ate lunch together and she talked about him a time or two after that throughout the course of our relationship. I can’t say that she was intimate with him or not while we were together as some would assume. It’s just irrelevant at this point.

I really wanted to talk about the cats, Piper and Kahlo, the best birthday gift that I had ever received that was taken from me under false pretenses. Had I known, in clear conscience, that I would never seen my babies again, I would have never agreed to let both of them stay with her. How is it fair to me? It hurts me to no end that I have lost her and my babies, but when I think about losing them and never seeing them, some days, I must admit, that it is unbearable. I see Piper in Sebastian when he is just being chill and then when he licks my face when he feels I’m sad, I’m reminded of Kahlo. Sebastian is a welcomed addition, but he can never be a substitute for what I held so dear before him.

My wish is that Veronica could just breathe a little, remember the best part of me and then give me the courtesy of seeing them again–joint custody maybe, I don’t know. It’s frightening to me how cruel she is now. The tone she has when she talks to me. It’s a very indifferent, whatever, I don’t need this and you’re lucky I picked up the phone to talk to you, type of thing and I’m wondering how could she have ever loved me if that’s how she truly feels about me. I remember my angry self with her and I was bad enough, but I always told and SHOWED her love while I tried to work through the problem. Of course, she isn’t me. Maybe she just has either/or, happy or angry and right now, she must feel I deserve all of her discontentment. I love her anyways and will continue to think about her well-being just as I always have since the moment I met her. My love doesn’t change.

At the very least, I’ve been set free. I don’t feel the weight of wonder anymore. It has finally sunk in that Veronica being with me is a thing of the past; that family I often dreamed of is has truly vanished and I must move forward, not only for myself, but for Sebastian. If I don’t deserve a happy, healthy life, he sure does. When I don’t have courage to move on for me, I will think of him; do it for him