Can you miss someone while talking to them? I miss you talking to you, not talking to you, I miss you while thinking of you, miss you while missing you, miss you between missing you.
Like you without even loving you, much less falling.
Who’s the moth and who’s the flame, can even you tell?
Who’s the afflicted and who’s the affliction, please tell me, do you know?
Are you feeling what I’m feeling? Because it’s not fun without you feeling too. Don’t make me jump through hoops, I’ve always hated games, it’s not fair to me. I’m more than happy seeing everyone else play or maybe watch with someone, won’t you watch with me.
I’m narcissistic, don’t you get it. Why punish me for it when I already am, when I’m punishment enough.
I’m afraid of someday waking up and just not talking to you anymore. I’m afraid of not even wanting to. I have done that before, more times than I can count, for real. I like talking to you. Let me. Let me be. Let me be me. Let me be real. While letting me not let you be real, not make you real, not make this real. I’m a fucking tyrant, I need control, more than I had my whole life, why can’t you guess faster, aren’t I? Aren’t I more than up to the task? I think so.
Let me be simple, I’m simple, I’d like to be more, a bit more, that’s it, but for now, that is where I am, somewhat like you I need time.
I ask of you, everything, yeah, nothing, and everything, nothing but everything. I want more, more and more, why must you delay my gratification, that’s for me to do for myself, you can trust me to do that….or can you?
I don’t know what I ask of you, you see, nor what I ask of me. Am I a sucker for going after myself, seeking myself, even if it’s a dull void. I want to throw you in that void, against that void, you understand, and see if you bounce back. That’s kind of my thing, you get?
But it never happens because things in my world are upside down, or skewed or whatever, it’s like looking at the world through a fishbowl, everything’s different, crazy and that’s why I’m so excited. Everything gets me so crazy, I’m hyperventilating for the love of God, I like everything, love the whole Mother fucking Earth, all it’s little inhabitants, too much. Too much, those two are the words for me. The world doesn’t like it, oh no, they don’t and I have to keep it down, keep it from showing, hide everything, my face, but then my eyes show, my body, but then the contours of my burqa tell the story. What do I do. I hide within the hidden, my words within the secrets, the secrets within the words, it doesn’t kill me, it doesn’t sustain me. I’m not living, was I ever? Was I born still, I must ask. Did the hand of Fate strike me therein? I’m not living the way I was born to be, I’m just vegetating the hell out of “life”. And here you come, living, I must hate you. Must hate you now. Make it the reason of my living, make it the substance of my living, maybe it will be my Redemption. You are another hope, different, unique, but another hope just the same. You make me yearn for lost people, lost loves, whyy. You make me recall the lost faces, see them in you and out of you, like a twisted ying-yang, hate it, and I’m not allowed to even love you, fall, hahahhh. You’re making me hate my words, you’ve colored my walls all bright but now you blacken my heart, ashen everything, will there be anything left? I’ve loved, loved before, I’m hating, exploring hate, thinking about hate, hate that I’m hating right now. I’ve sucked in my breath, the hole is pulsating, making its presence felt, the pit of darkness darkening in the dead of the night, hidden from all eyes and mine. Where is my damn fickle heart, wander lusting around again, not here when I need it, it’s gone eating someone else’s pain and then later making me a gift of it, where are you when I need you, you fucking bastard!
You have a hole where your heart is too, right? Or a hole in your heart, because I haven’t felt it, your heart. After everything, I haven’t felt it breathing, or heard it ringing, have you ever heard mine? I’m curious, can you tell my heart? I’m feeling pretty dark right now, you care?
I shouldn’t have spent too much time on them, with them, trying to taste the little of their lives, the dark twain. I feel their darkness, within the dark twin of my heart, it has seeped into me. I’ve made you listen to it’s soliloquy, I’m wasting your time (if you don’t know by now), go away, and leave me alone (you’re bothering me now). The dawn is near and the demons are starting to ebb away, I can feel the darkness slumbering, they’ll be sleeping presently, I’ll let them. Oh God, I’ll let them.