my unholy absentee father
this was never for you
no, this was a letter in passing
maybe for me,
maybe for them.
never for you,
you took everything i had
never said you wanted more
but i will not give you this
these are my words, for me
these are my words, for them,
never for you.
i never thought our paths
would cross again
no, then it seemed too good
too good to be true
i never wanted our paths
to part in the first place
but who am i to get what i want
they say that trust is a patient heart
head full of doubt
i second guess
over and over
again
and it consumes me now
i'm afraid i'm not who
i had hoped i would be
i'm afraid i'm not who
you knew me to be
but i never expected you change
and i never expected you to be the same
aimless
the ghost of your breath
still hits my skin
like the wind gusts
over the ocean,
it hits the body of
water like my heart beats
to pump blood.
and i feel without
feeling
i breathe without
being alive
and it's exhausting.
i remember every footstep
of every path, i've taken
how it lead me here
to this place, to you.
and in my sleep,
when i'm not really resting.
it haunts me.
untitled
i read and reread
my own words
but they all feel so foreign
in my head in my heart
this is an art i never
truly mastered, nor do i think i will ever
with my head full of doubt
of myself, of what i feel
i get lost in these letters,
i want to write like him
and i want to recite like him
will they ever know of my desires?
will i ever tell them how they’ve
moved mountains, no
how they’ve moved my entire world.
in such a simplistic chaos
they matter
my heart is filling with trust
after so long of it being a causation of its ruins
does that signify patience?
of myself, i do not know.
nor do i think i will ever know.
for you.
i know there's a forest in your
head.
and you get lost in the dark
depths.
you can't find the road to
safety,
and you can't find your
way home.
it's always sunny,
and you hate it.
because you're so numb,
from the cold.
and the light,
it's teasing you.
taunting you.
while your thoughts
are doing nothing
but haunting you.
even when you find
a meadow of flowers
and of warm sunlight.
it's a patch of good,
of okay,
in an ocean of bad
and you feel like you're
drowning,
when the ocean breeze
floats through the trees.
you know the ones in the
forest of your thoughts.
but what you didn't know
is that all along
the wind was your compass
and where the sunlight
came from, that was
your northern star
and it guides you.
it guides you, for me
it guides you back to
the place you feel comfortable
calling home
and it guides you
to the ones who you hold
close to your heart,
and i welcome you
with open arms.
i’m not sure
i mean what would we be
without each other,
just a mere fraction
of the person we are now;
or is it entirely possible that
we’d still be who we are now.
the thing is, i don’t want to know
what it is to not know you.
you’ve managed to find your
way into my world you shook
things up so that up was down,
and left was right and it seems
to make sense all this irrationality.
it’s illogical for me to make way
in all this disorder,
adding chaos to an already
chaotic mind, and yet i crave it.
falling for you was like
falling into outer space.
the immense void of beauty
and greatness, so expansive
and carefree. it’s almost like
i’m addicted to the lack of oxygen
i need to survive,
you seem to provide something else
and i’m not sure if it’s
good or bad,
but i love it nonetheless.
but you see, i’m afraid of
falling like i’ve fallen before
but against the laws
of science, i’m absolutely
drowning in your eyes
falling in an endless whirlpool
of the emotions you make me feel
it’s a love-hate thing and
it’s beautiful really.
it’s nothing but chaos in
my brain, i’m afraid.
but that’s only for what
i feel for you.
you’re my life line,
and that drives me
to swim ashore.
what it felt like
so you're over there,
just across the room
not that far away
it feels like forever,
but when your eyes
meet mine; time stops.
a continuing, pausing and
playing so that my
heart's broken beats begin
to create an uneven
melody, to soothe the
cracks and fractures of
my brain. telling you
not to give up.
mind over matter part two.
it's important.
but why is it important?
because i don't want to forget.
but isn't that what's making you hurt...?
you wouldn't understand, it's illogical, irrational.
you could understand the concept...
but it wouldn't be the same...
for me to understand the concept, wouldn't it?
if you're asking these questions now,
then you should know your answer.
stop signs
it's raining, i'm in the car.
i remember the night i told you.
the night i told you how i really felt.
i remember the afternoon you told me.
the afternoon you broke my heart.
i remember the night you kissed me.
the night i knew you couldn't mean what you said.
i remember the night i started feeling things.
the night we went to dinner.
i still have the receipt.
i remember it all.
and it all breaks my heart.
but we were nothing more,
then these cars passing by.
if i knew you then
i remember that mid-november day.
remember the day you told her,
through written word.
i remember her asking me,
on what she should do.
i told her "you should go
for it if he makes you happy."
though i saw the hesitation
in her eyes.
but if i knew you then,
i would have said
something else to spare
your heart.
i noticed when the two of you,
would plan for
time together, you
would invest your all
and she would go along.
i noticed most of the time,
you were precise and cautious,
when she would be reckless
and carefree.
she took for granted what,
you gave of yourself.
i remember this other time,
maybe i shouldn't even tell you,
you deserve to know, though.
i remember when we went
to the art museum, as the two
of you looked at the pieces
on the walls, they had stories.
like the one you both have.
but i saw it then, i saw how
you should have been cared for.
i saw how you should have
been loved.
and if i knew you then, as i
know you now.
i would have told her that;
all people with broken hearts,
should be admired like
the art on the walls of the
museums, especially if the
owner of the broken heart
is an artist himself.