Collaboration: Empty Sleep (3.25.17)

Him: It seems that everytime that I wake up,

I fall right back to sleep.

There is something so comforting in the world of my dreams.

I’ll let the night caress me.

(Me: Sleep is no longer comforting,

has become some kind of endless bondage from

which I awake more restless than when I attempted

to rest.)

Him: Each empty night,

knowing that you aren’t beside me,

is killing me.

(Me: Beside you, I would only tremble,

beside you I would be terrified of being too much

and never yet enough, of being within your grasp

and moments away from losing you.)

Him: That’s why I love the dreams.

So let me wake up, just to fall asleep.

Let me dream of nightmares,

life’s too perfect for all this.

So just let me be.

(Me: I wonder now if the dreams

are more or less beautiful than

this reality.)

Him: There’s a train at the station

and I don’t know where it’s going.

But I’m hopping on and not looking back.

And as I look back, I see you.

(Me: When I left, I did not look back.

Talking to you became somehow more empty,

I craved only your all and felt like less than ever;

I wonder if it will ever feel worth it.)

Him: Another empty night is paused by

sore arms and heavy breathing.

So I fall asleep.

Because wherever this takes me I need to go along.

(Me: I know you’ve gone along, and I

want you to be happy but hate that it’s without me.)

Him: So let me wake up, just to fall asleep.

Let me dream of nightmares,

Life’s too fragile for all this,

so save me now.

(Me: You’ve always written so melodically,

you are like a heartbeat, a pulse

that I am somehow living without – and doesn’t that seem strange?)

Him: Stuck in the middle of raising bridge.

I’m not sure which end to choose.

Each fate a question that I need

both answers to.

(Me: Do you have all of the answers now?

Are you happy with the path you’ve chosen?

At least, I’m sure it’s easier to have people

about whom you don’t feel an obligation to hide…

I almost wish I could be hidden again,

there were delightful moments, living as your secret.)

Collaboration: Fears #1179 (3.25.17)

Him – To wait-

A timeful promise.

Our love barred by distance.

Your kindly words, seldom spoken.

 

Me – We had no way of knowing

what we wished to promise one another.

 

Him – Fear-

So easily aroused by those falling.

Your open book compared to my

bounded pages.

 

Me – Prising open those pages was

such a gift; and ever I remain this

open book, to no avail.

 

Him – Uncompatible-

My match, my one, how lucky we both are.

In the mirror we look, so much we

don’t know.

 

Me – Does compatibility ever really matter?

My own fears were monopolized by the feeling

of insufficiency – but did that stop your falling?

Do we remain lucky in the aftermath.

 

Him – I both adore you and fear you,

I find the weight upon our embrace omnious.

You hold no bias, but rejection you have told me of.

Shortcomings- my ‘self perceived’ flaws,

will you take me then?

 

Me – I both adore you and fear you.

The weight of our embrace left me full of shame,

feeling all the more awkward in my own skin.

I felt rejected, when I just wanted your love.

Like some kind of shrew – would we have ever lasted?

 

Him – I’ve been told that love is an investment.

And the lovers assets. I fear your heart,

your broker will withdraw.

 

Me – I invested too much to ever forget.

Him – Only time will tell.

I ask you to let me down easy.

As I am scared to death.

 

Me – I can’t believe your fear was ever greater than my own,

I feel that it is I who was let down

though perhaps I drew the final blow.

 

Me – I was tired of being on a tightrope,

and I still fear I will never find this type of love again,

forever paramour, perhaps you are also my only.

 

Collaboration: Altruism’s Pause #1178 (3.24.17)

Him: Every night before I slept,

I always took time to think.

About those in my life,

Too caring they say, how it’s for them I wept.

 

Me: Every night before I sleep

there is some kind of melody,

sentiments akin to misery lulling me

into dreams.

 

Him: Caring I may be, altruistic I am.

And when I get concerned, they wonder.

Wonder how I can’t give a damn about myself.

For me there is no paradise, just their blunders.

 

Me: Caring I once was, altruistic I can’t bear to be.

 

Him: There’s never been reason as to why I care.

That’s never been told, but they can see it in the air.

Left to their interpretation, for their own solace.

So they can take me, for them I can be.

 

Him: Then you came along, forced me to change.

You made me look in, and at my ways.

My heart now a target on your only range.

You took me by surprise, your love left me dazed.

 

Me: I didn’t really come along,

I was brought on the crest of another’s waves

I never sought to disarm you, to be disarmed,

in truth, we were both surprised.

 

Him: My altruism put on pause as I looked at my emotions.

Never did I fall in love, but pain came from it.

I was hurt by the motions.

Only now do I see what you are to me.

 

Me: Only now can I say all that you were

for me.

 

Him: The actress to my center stage,

the gambler to my heart’s wage.

Only now I’m not afraid to say it at all,

but your actions left me petrified, petrified to fall.

Me: What were my actions? Can I even now

be conscious of what you claim I did?

What a faulty hand we were both dealt,

What a tragic ennui that came to ensnare us…

 

Him: Our minds and fears, on opposite sides of a wall.

The tunnels of our hearts have dug to tell it all.

We both are reaching and pulling away,

But in my heart for the rest of time I’ll know you’ll stay.

 

Me: For the rest of time? Am I there now?

 

Him: Altruism kicked back in, for once both beneficial,

for you and I; but an action must be official.

The wall must be torn down, and our fears embraced.

In order for you and I to look the unknown in the face.

 

Me: It wasn’t love when we saw each other,

the unknown became this painful lack of synergy,

it seemed, then impossible, for you and I to become a “we”.

 

Him: It’s only then you know, we can make things be.

For it to be ‘us’ instead of you and and me.

But this may take years of planning I fear,

As it seems to be all on you my dear.

 

Me: My dear…

 

Him: Once again, now before I sleep,

I think of you with those tears you weep.

And how and altruism caused the biggest strife,

and the largest piece of happiness in my life.

 

Me: What kind of happiness leaves two divided like this?

All our intentions completely remiss;;

Something became nothing – is it something again?

#1177 (3.23.17)

I am forever writing at love.

I want to make a love story out of every infinitesimal,

I seek the shock and awe of every interaction,

nothing interests me so much as that indiscernable affectation

that makes someone worth holding on to.
I have been in love, I have felt its ache in my bones and bon its denial across my shoulders like a cloak

and I thought its nether parts had dissuaded me from the elixir

but I remain willfully disillusioned.
I was listening to something, recently, about loves that only last a day:

instaneous connections, momentary interactions that are surely, surely love but not intended to stretch

beyond the briefest period. I feel that many of my loves are like this,

people who I see who instantly charm me, single conversations that feel like 

the beginning of entire solar systems, 

gazes that paint pastels across my entire world view–
and then they are gone and I am still alone,

shaken but not stirred from alienating ruminations:

but does my loneliness make the intensity of that moment insignificant? 
Because when I recall the fire of blue eyes and rumbling voice drinking wine across from me,

I still feel warm, 

when I reminisce on cramming all of the world into 100 minutes

it still tastes sweet on my lips,

when I close my eyes and reread that correspondence over and over

I open myself to tidal waves of heat–

and these things can’t be nothing.
They were tiny loves, that perhaps the world can never bear

that indubitably I shall never forget,

that have bolstered my project:

I am writing at love,

finding and unfinding, every moment. 

#1176 (3.22.17)

I don’t understand how you are two people:

at once so sparkling and worthy of love,

at once so unrecognizable. 

I wish I could trace the moments between your two selves 

connect the dots of separation that scare me so,

I assure you I am filled with fright.

It is no delight to see toxicity emulsify all that I cherish, all that I love

to feel you so beyond my grasp and my reach,

so out of my touch–

it is scary. 

I don’t know how you contain these two selves

and not much in between them save for ignorance.

I am not quite convinced you are a full person, I often wonder at how you survive,

and I tremble daily, worried at your death,

wishing I mattered enough for you to stop terrifying me.

Birthday #1174 (3.20.17)

I have been dreading this day, juggling between a desire for attention and a desire

for complete ignorance;

because, this is not a day I celebrate, mostly because I struggle

with the idea of people celebrating me, or with no one paying any attention,

with false acknowledgements because of a social media reminder

and genuine well-wishes on my behalf,

it’s hard to know how much any of it matters, it’s hard to know

how much to care.

I have been dreading this day; and usually at this point I am still filled with dread,

knowing I will not do anything amazing, I will probably be a phone all day

my siblings will half-heartedly sing for me because they want cake–

it is really just another day.

And that, is fine.

Maybe one year it won’t be,

and for most years prior to this one it was a great agony to me,

hoping for so much from this anniversary of nativity and seemingly receiving so little. 

But I, for once, feel fine.

I, for once, feel fine.