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I smile while your heart breaks
Then feel guilty endlessly
I smile while your heart breaks
’Cause when I'm there you don't show me
This is not about me, you say
But I still have to deal
This is not about me, you say
Then why this ache inside of me?
Your mask, of times past
Holds me here
I cannot lose you
Your mask of happiness not felt
Burns me retrospectively
No time spent with you now
Ever remains simple, free
Tinged with the mountainous pains you feel
Before or after you make me guilty
For not seeing for not feeling for not helping
For not being more than I am
Miracle worker, oh how I wish I was
I pray fervently
But you are deaf
Unlike Him.
I watch my best friend
Prove she wants me around
It’s all so futile
I already know
I felt I felt I felt I’d gone to hell
But I get over it
And they just get more guilt
I’m guilty, so she’s guilty
So I’m guilty, so we’re guilty
It just gets more stupid
And it’s all mine
It’s just they hurt and they hurt and they hurt
It doesn’t stop
And I can’t do anything
But learn how to live with the unliveable
As they seem to be
In this time
I feel so aligned
In this time
I’m going the right way
It seems to me
Who could ever have expected
A simple choice to mean so much?
Sometimes I live in fear
But here and now
I feel real
Future, unwritten
But I have written this much
And I can’t help but hope.
I can be normal for you
And give you a short lived break
I can’t cure what’s wrong with you
Can’t take away your aches
And sometimes, just sometimes,
I wish it would go away
But it’s still all in my head
I never get to act it out
The hunger in my head
Divorced from the focus of my attention
I’m terrified of making old mistakes
Ruining someone else’s smile
I’m tired of lesser feelings when I touch
Can I never give out passion
And get some back?
Friendship, I know how to do that
Anything else one big mystery
And a thousand head games I play with myself
To salvage some dignity
If we had more than our lack of conversation
If I could change a touch from illicit to hot
I would say this was passion
But it’s not
I’ve worn out my fakery of troubled, tortured excuses
Found more excuses for angst
I untied all the knots
And found?
Nothing.
A daydream, and a hero, miscast
But,
I have never been here
And he.
Is inexplicable
I could look on his face an hour
And see no great beauty in it
There is no great trick
Of expressiobn that transforms it beyond this
Ordinary features
His voice is not as the sirens
No call to drown in the deeps
His speeches nothing special
Save in that he has hurt me
In old, old places
And yet I spent a week
Wreathed in smiles when he talked to me
His smell is somehow to be breathed
But still there is no lust or love
Nor great companionship
Nor sympathy
So why delight and also, briefly, griefs?
Why feel, ever so vaguely, guilt
At distance retrieved
And silences?
I tied myself in knots of thought
Then thought to throw them off
Cut the Gordian
I have now so it seems
Repeating not even suspected excuses
Bored, intensely wished-for dreams,
Blocked from activity by a long wait
He is so young, and I, in love with a dream
I don't even see the whys
Like butterflies, in constant flight
Dignity
Let us call it pride
I cannot bear to lose face
Lose some sense of place
To feel hollow
And out of control
Dignity
I tie myself ever tighter
Speak openly here
But not there
The drawstrings tighten
About what I cannot say
So I say nothing
Dignity
Like some farcical economy of motion
Born of fear
Staining, with tar-like consistency
The pit of my stomach
Tell me
Am I afraid of rejection
Or of love
Of bush fires without control
And thus being hurt
Or the silence and the space
That means I don’t burn
And the laughter
That tells me I’m alone
I know I am loveable
Sister, mother, daughter, cousin
I know how those feel
And I know I am perhaps pretty
Like a painting in a gallery
That there are those who have looked
Either discomforting, irritating, or obscene
But how can anything be when you have not seen?
I have told you less than nothing
And you, well who knows
What half sketched portrait
You may be to me
One does not, I know,
Expect Rembrandt in day
But I look to an echo
A sense of futures yet to be
Recreated in daydreams
And for you I have not had these
Just an echo of an echo
And endless conversations, sharply unreal
Never said, nor helpful in silence
I could be endless heroines
In my head,
So long as I have heart
But I don’t know what my heart feels
Too caught up in dignity,
And games I am no good at
Lost the arts of silence, and going unseen
I look to a knife edge clarity
Lust or love or some sense of heartening
Forgetting
Such harsh divisions
Smoke and mirrors
Left behind with the first flush of hormones
If I wish to analyse myself into oblivion
First, let go, and allow for fear.
I think I want you
I tasted your scent on the breeze
It twisted in my mouth
Till I didn't know what I needed
Except for you to speak
And not to some china doll
But something real
For you to believe
And not see my fear
But I don't know what you see
Or if you even look at me
I am not your willing tease
To mock and plead
And gain access to your fears
I am just nothing
So I say nothing
Because there is nothing that you want of me
Even if my silence bleeds
Anger and old scars
Can't you say if you want nothing
So you can never seem like you resent it
When I am dumb, or you, deaf
So can let you be nothing
Instead of sticking wanting something
Not sure what that something is
Except I want to know what it is
I can't put flowers on your headstone
Thought sometimes I invoke your name with cheer
Tell stories of before your passing
And not feel a single tear
But I wish you could tell them for me
Because you were here
I am the one with whom people like to talk
Of inconsequential things
The things that grow from day to day
The ordinary hopeful, happy, artless ways
We pass our lives
I am smiling, gentle, brash
Shy on somedays
Some days relaxed
And people love me, for I love them
Whatever I say no matter when
And they love me, how they love me
For myself.
Because I can heal I can grow
Share other's pain and not leave them alone
It's not something I wanted
But it's useful all the same
Now if I could only do it without shame
Silence is the way of life
That I'm accustomed to
But only after love, lust and uncertainty
Have taken hold
I spill my other secrets
To reduce the hurt
Must every love
Be a story of denial?
Oh my child
As yet ungrown, unborn, unconcieved
In thought or action
Yet still my dear fate
I embrace you fully
Oh my child
Where is your father?
Sometimes I lose patience
With the never never
Will you ever be?
One changed afternoon
I see you
Mirror to innocence now gone
But unique
Your little heartbeat
Like a butterfly a-flutter
As I dream of partnership
Of loving desire complete
May I not dream with love so different
Of you?
If I feel
I ache to satisfy
If I do not
I am not real
I hunger and hunger and hunger
Then, empty, wonder
I cannot believe
In the hand not dealt
Yet I cannot know what might be felt
When does the dream get to become real?
I am lost
To bird calls
And the beauty of frost
A sense of other permeates
Why this unrelenting cold
This walking death
Where is my warm cocooning bed?
I'll never be the kind of girl
Satified with make up and pearls
And I can't be the kind
Who really doesn't mind
Being cruel
Nobody knew
In ages past
Of hours, minutes, seconds,
As they watched the seasons pass
And ages turn
Changes invisible to the eye
Oh so slow
But known
And time to dream
To see is to believe
It is not that we believe in nothing
We believe
But
Another day speeds past
And we do not think
We only see
Dumb automata
Unreal.