We’re Human Beings But We Don’t Care
Misery doesn’t love company. Misery just doesn’t wanna be miserable anymore.
I’m not hard to find. Right now I’m chasing echoes. Somewhere along the way I made a deal with a nameless, faceless, entity who thought it would prove to be a remarkable idea to visit my intentions. We made a deal. I don’t remember the nature of the deal but it has somehow left me playing out a bad hand.
My mirror took a chance in looking at me, my destiny beckoned. The mirror person and I looked at each other for a while. I’ve got to say the mirror person loves me because I take care of his problems before I take care of my own. Not bad for a poet living in the shadows.
Loneliness isn’t a game. It happens when you let go of a loved one’s hand.
I’ve been neglecting my means to an end. It’s of no fault the mirror person. He’s just trying to understand this life I have chosen for myself. And his.
I don’t need to see your face to know that you’re an angel. I’ve got your heart here at home with me. I will try to forget, but I’ve not forgotten. I could have been someone but I was having just too much fun.
It’s always beautiful in the beginning. A new smile. A new touch. The promise of what once was and what will be once again. You know I’ve been thinking. It’s time we had a talk. It fell in love with me running from it’s wildest dreams
I still see your graveyard smile. I still feel your streetcar embrace every time you teach me that lesson in marytrdom. I still hear you calling every time I hear those melodies in the morning. Those are the very same melodies that provide a soundtrack for my dreams.
In this emotional wreckage there is only one thing left to do. Fear nothing. I am at one with this night. Brother to the owl.
Don’t pretend you forget. Don’t forget that you pretend to care. When you fear, turn and look behind. Don’t back down.
You don’t need this. We don’t need this. We don’t have to posture to get the things we need in this presentation. We’re two strangers whose story-lines have conflicted. We’re fighting for the same moment that isn’t even long enough to enjoy a kiss.
Two months ago was the fourth time this year I had my dying dream. It didn’t quite grasp me until I was awake the next day. What I thought to be a routine hangover turned out to be the hand of Death grasping me, reminding me who was in charge.
I tried to wash away its touch for a great length of time in the shower. It took some time for me to calm down and realize that I had a say in the matter too. I’m not afraid. I’m willing and fearless. You’ll see it in my eyes.
Last night I had a different dying dream. The mirror person was dead.
But I was ok.