Wednesday, June 29, 2016

real love seeks not accolades but to be taken.

i think you wait for me to
picture you
before something happens
of which expectations are not met. god, i love
a disappointment. finally, someone wants

to kill us for not listening to nature.

i think you like to wait for me to turn into
the wind and wake you from an unwanted dream
though we think of ourselves and our
preservations of ourselves

and not how much we love what we have.
from what i understand, this seems to be so.

i take it back, this desire to be the ocean

when i am as small
as an accolade.
i am so lonely with the truth

that i am small,
grieving- i turn into a disease. i need to be saved.

i am as small as you are-
unhesitant,
resisted against.

i had been
disgracing my own desires before. i take it back.
today, i am devoted.

possibilities speak of themselves.
everybody is free. why

do they still ignore me? why do they
choose how they choose?

i have spoken. everybody is free.
are they still concerned about fear? but i am
lonely and i have spoken up
for those unteaching and now

they must step up and care about me.

why am i still lonely? have i not
been heard? have i not
shown paths, interfered

with gravity? does the continuation
of possibility

remain needed to be overseen?
i do not want this shut the door.

what was i thinking
when i said
i'd love to be heroin for man

until they wake up? did i
think myself noble? was this, is this

my faith?
the other people have fun i can't believe this i exile all shut the door.