All I ever wanted
Feelings are intense
Words are trivial
Pleasures remain
So does the pain
Words are meaningless
And forgettable
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm
Could be easy
One click, one letter, one scroll.
And press the green button.
Then wait.
And, eventually, listen.
Long gone is the changing of messages, pictures, videos. All gone. Buried in my mind, only to resurface the more I miss you.
And all those memories - useless. They are telling me I should make something, give a sign, pursue a path.
And then, reason. I have to reason. I have to think with my brain and crunch my heart. I have crushed yours, I just need to keep smashing mine, so yours regrows strong, and with no hiccups.
Someone is taking care of your heart, soul, mind, pleasure, joy, happiness, is the thought that soothes and tortures me. You know: angel and devil, and everything in between is what you have always been to me.
Everytime, everyday, everything, ever and ever.
Awful being
"You were supposed to bring balance, not leave us in darkness!"
Everything I touch, I corrupt. All my fears, my weaknesses, my insecurities transfer around in hate, stillness, neglect.
I wonder if I am even human. If anything, an undeserving one.
I should bring light. I am capable of turning it on, why can't I keep the energy, the fuel that would make you shine endlessly?
Why do I offer you the candle holder, but nothing to keep the flame brightening our lives?
I understand if you broke it. I understand if it's stored away in some random box. I understand if you sold it.
I just do not understand myself.
Somehow
I feel you still remember me. And this is why I cannot risk. I would be ok with just having an window into you, like a silent, distant stalker.
On one hand, that would be an atrotious way to further condemn me - you, from the height of the pedestal you walk on, to compassionately provide charity yo my heart.
On the other hand, it would be vile of me - once you loved me. Not only you owe me nothing, I hurt you.
I cannot hurt you, and I am unworthy of suffering your punishment.
I am at a dead end, living a zombie life.
When oblivion seems to descend upon me
Suddenly, a flurry of images make themselves visible even when I am awake.
More often than not, memories of moments, so intense, that those emotions become physical. Reminiscences that make by body ache. Not from sorrow, but from craving. Craving those long gone moments, craving to live them again, craving they were not forgotten.
I could make a list. It's never the same, but some come up more than others. One thing, however, is common. It is moments where I felt, deep inside, that I made you happy. When there was no chance for my impostor syndrom, because you were smiling, thriving, glowing, confident, eager. Sometimes, giving yourself whole, opening up for me so deeply, so wide, that I took refuge in your heart.
Oblivion is impossible. Forgetting you is not in question. Why I cannot see you, hear you, feel you, it's beyond myself. Why we cannot interact, it's a shame. Why I cannot know about you, it's cruel.
But then again, I am the cruel one. Stuck into the realm of oblivion unable to forget.
I ain't careful
But I ain't careless.
I hurt for not knowing, but would like to know.
I respect, and do not reach out, but am burning each time I see how easy it would be.
I am senseless. And becoming more by the day.
Crumbs
the snow, a path, an immersion onto discoveries, walking hand in hand, exploring a world, quietly, gently waiting for our visit.
Discovering the paths in between the valleys and mountains defined by your contour: your pale skin, the sweat streams, the firmness and softness from nipple to toe.
Discovering paths both with you and within you.
Everything I do not do. Everything that is gone. Everything wasted.
i miss the mountains. I miss the cold. I miss the certainty of your encounter. I hate remembering I got what I wanted. And now have nothing but crumbs.
Down the rabbit hole
There's no magical, strange place waiting. Only darkness, claustrophobia and dampness.
The night surrounds me, and as you predicted, all those around me.
All fun and blings
But what about ourselves? Are we forgetting who we are? What we strive for? How we want to be? Whom to share with? Where to live? When to Love?
I come across our only picture of us every once in a while. And I wonder where you are and with whom you are taking pictures with. I can't help it. And you should know about it.
But instead, silence. Nothingness. And it's fair, and I hate it.
Desconstruir
Para construir.
Is it even feasible? What would building mean? And how, if you can never be happy with past, but only with the present and the future?
I forgot, because it's meaningless - Loyalty. I may have and value consciousness, politeness, justice. But I lack the integrity to be wholly loyal. And therefore I ain't, no matter how much I strive.
Given the opportunity, I falter. Therefore only besides rocks can I survive and have a purpose. Even if meaningless, fruitless, repressed.
Stupid is
as stupid does.
Or doesn't: cowardly, stupidly, non-sensingly.
(I miss you, that's all. I am sorry.)
Dull
no escape
E p'ra que fingir?
Porque mentir e remar na dor?
Achas que ninguem ve?..
Tambem eu queria parar...
chorar... cair...
p'ra me levantar, p'ra te puxar!
Te fazer sorrir, não voltar a cair!...
Somedays
I just feel like I have to reach out. And then I don't: I will not be selfish. I will not fail you.
There were times I needed you so much, I failed to care for you. But, at the time, there was still a way. There was still hope. Light was not just a candle. We could both risk because we were uncertain. And somehow, I could give you something. My voice, my passion, my arms, my gallantry, whatever made you quiver and tremble.
If I reached out today, I would just be receiving. Your calm, your integrity, your rock, your softness, your Light. And would not be giving. For one, you don't need anything. For two, you do not want it, specially from me. For three, I am undeserving of you.
So, again, I do not reach, and just suffer another day of your absence. Somedays, it hurts even more than in others. Somedays, I just miss how my turmoil would fall upon your garden of snuggle, peace and quiet. Somedays, I really miss being Loved by you.
...
(And Love you back)
Despair
Dreams show me the obvious. But today it was painful: it was torture to look at your new found hapiness. Somehow, I had to wait for him to arrive, while your flace glowed, your smile was wide, and I believed for an instant it was because you had seen me. Until your integrity shone as well, and you were solid as a rock in your Love, which was simply waiting for him to arrive.
Then I woke up, soaked in sweat, pain and noise. I can only dream of a white, soft, scenario. In my life, it hails. And everything is destroyed.
Infinity
Investing in my sleep would be a long term investment. A matress, a sommier, proper bed linen.
But what's the use if the bed is empty of your softness? If I cannot smell your hair, feel your skin, kiss your lips, rest my head on your bossom?
A decades long investment. With you, there would be only reward, no risk. Some would say, that's impossible, it's infinite return!
Well, that is Love: Infinite.
I don't wanna to fall asleep
Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream would never do
I still miss you babe
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming
Wondering if it's me you're seeing
They all think it's about more detail. But that's not how memory works. We recall with our feelings. Anything real should be a mess.
I know it's real.
I know it's real.
God dammit.
Whenever I stop believing
Silence tells me there is nothing to believe.
But then, night comes, dreams arrive, memories flood, craving sets in, and I have to believe again.
Endless loop. Humongous despair.
Mental sanity
Would be going offline.
But that means not knowing, which brings me hurt.
The downward spiral is inevitable. Your upward triumph is inexorable.
No buts
Come upstairs. Unleash yourself unto me. I have let it go.
Words I crave to hear again, said in silence, with just one look. And while you were freeing yourself, I never freed myself. Maybe in glimpses we were truly free. Behind the door, below the dim light, inside the blankets. Facing each other. Making Love. Loving.
Wild is the wind
my prayer flies like a word on a wing
And I'm trying hard to fit among your scheme of things
Undo
Many moments of divergence I could return to. Some I can no longer pinpoint. Like the return from the northern lights and your abandonement beyond the forgiveness.
Or even further. How would that alternative universe look like, seem like, feel like, live like?
I can't believe the news today
And everyday. Hurting, worried for you, wherever you are. Pain and suffering is already enough, cannot not be this dreadful and destructive.