A Horrible Poetic Accident

Is this love or just loneliness?

(Written Tuesday February 17, 2009)

Love is a nervous thing

Where every little action

Is akin to balancing

On a thin line of

Too little

Or way too much

And everyone has a different

Line…

.

What I’ve come to realize

Is that love is an

Imperfect thing,

Always nervous and

Anxious after that superb beginning

Rush of drugs from the heart

Down to every atom

That constructs one

Half of the equation…

.

Love is a destructive thing

When it isn’t done correctly

It rips and shreds

Even the feeblest of constructs

That make up a being

Willing to love just about

Anyone that thinks they deserve

The affection of another…

.

What I’ve come to realize

Is that love can fail

As easily as any other piece

Of socially constructed idea

It isn’t too big to fail.

I have a story

One with a foggy beginning

That starts to become clear

The more you read.

.

I have a story

One that has no end

In sight

Where it’s headed

I do not know.

.

I have a story

One with love and hate

And a million other

Entanglements.

.

I have a story

One that’s my own

This story’s unique

Just like your own.

I was on my way to take care of you

When I slipped and fell

Fracturing my elbow

On the frozen concrete.

You were sick

And when you heard

The sickening crack of flesh

Against stone

You asked if I needed to go

To the hospital.

I said I didn’t.

It took you 5 hours

Of repeating the same question

Before I decided that

I should get checked out.

So we left, the middle of the night

Enveloping our broken and sick

Bodies. We didn’t return until

After 2 a.m.

You took care of me for a day or two.

You helped me shower

And get down pills

And simply just survive.

This experience is one of the many, many

Reasons why I still love you.

There are words

That I will never speak

Never dream

Never dream

Never dream

Never dream

There are words

That I will never read

And I will let you know

That you will

Never dream

Never dream

Never dream

Never dream

There are words

That I will never whisper

Never whisper

Never whisper

Never whisper

Never whisper

The things I have told you

For there are secrets

That I will never learn

To say

To say

To say

To say

About how I love the way you know how

To dream

To dream

To dream

To dream

There are words out there

Language so foreign that I will never learn them

Nor learn how to dream

To dream

To dream

To dream

To dream

In the rich, extravagant words

Encompassed by those that know how

To dream

To dream

To dream

To dream

All I wish to do is

Dream

Dream

Dream

Dream

About the love we share

So fluidly

Like water down

A stream

A stream

A stream

A stream

All I wish to give you is

A dream

A dream

A dream

A dream

Here we go again

Dying slowly

In each others arms.

We are everything to no one

And nothing to everyone.

We are the inverse of simplicity.

We are the pause between

The breaths that you take.

We are dying

Slowly

Alone in our

Separate rooms.

We are breathing

Even and ragged

Until we fall for each other

Again and fall asleep

Cuddled up next to air.

We are the sweet nothings

Whispered into the space

Between mouth and ear.

We are together,

Yet alone.

We are human.

There’s 1

There’s 2

There’s 3

There’s 4

There’s more

Words than

I know

To say what

Is on my mind.

I used to make

People cry

With the words

Of love and loss

That I wrote,

(Scribbled, rather)

On pieces of ratty

And tattered sheets of

Paper.

Now I just sit around reading

The words of those

Long since dead and forgotten to

The world of us, the generation

Of instant gratification.

We are nothing more than

A hodge-podge of brats that think

They are entitled to everything that catches

Their eye.

I used to write with extravagance

But now I write with the words

I can find in piles of scrap metal

And lost causes.

I used to write with wit and meaning

But now I write when I have the chance

To spew vomitous villainies so

Wretchedly called poetry.

I used to write with the best intentions

For a change in the way the world works

But all I get now is

Bitter overtones and the same

Words about the woman

I love so dearly.

I used to know where I was headed

But now, not so much.

The bitterness comes and goes

And I can’t stand it

It boils beneath my ribs

And it corrupts the

Only good thing

I have left

So I pray to a god

That I don’t believe in

To help remedy what

Is ailing me and the

Love I have.

There’s struggle in

Everything we do and

I used to think that in my

Love it was unnatural

And over stressed the other parts

To make up for the love

That I lost because

I didn’t want to be rocky

In love,.

A breath in

A breath out

I’ll take you in

You’ll let me out

A fall in

A fall out

Together

Apart

We are never again

We will always be

Something that means

Something to someone

Love.

My words seem to be

Seizing up

And they won’t flow

Any more

Or so it seems

There aren’t enough

Words around to explain

How much I love her

The drunkeness takes hold

While the memory of you

Grows stronger

And I fall deeper in love

With you’re beauty.

she’s my lovely

my only

my all

and if i keep writing

bad love poetry

maybe we will both start

to realize that

we are completely in love

with each other