Yes, I did some kind of impossible for you,
I’m still waiting to find out if I got away with it.
I’ve been procrastinating three weeks to reply to your message,
because I rehearse everything I’m about to say
time and time and again as if my life depended on it,
because I feel maybe your attention and potential admiration and affection
towards me, somehow depend on what I say and do.
Maybe I can hide my wounds and pretend I’m cool,
exceedingly witty and clever,
whatever it is man nowadays are looking for,
but most importantly what you want
in a woman you pursue, unconciously.
So I’ve been driving myself insane for most of my adult age,
trying to figure out just who I am, the absurdity of life.
What makes me happy and why I act so irrationally.
Why there’s some hurts it seems I just can’t mend.
Why I wake up in the morning determined to only have one coffee, be healthy, be kind, “get shit done”, be a goddess in disguise, and a few hours later I find myself defeated in bed, thinking maybe I’ll try again tomorrow,
but today just wasn’t the day for it.
Why I think about you way too much and make seemingly crucial life decisions based around our fictitious future together.
Why I feel unworthy to have you, so I rather leave you alone,
some call this love.
To let you be free, away from me
and my dysfunctional quirks and anxieties.
I dunno if this is stupidity or my low self esteem. Which I hope one day goes away, so I won’t be afraid when I talk to acquaintances and friends and I’m left feeling like a dumb fuck when my mind goes blank, but most them don’t know, this is the “freeze or flight” effect trauma has left in my mind.
Why writing can be so healing, when I write for myself; not caring about what anyone else has got to say. If it’s artistic enough, abstract and profound.
If I’ll be published and liked, if I’m doing life and poetry right. If one day, soon, I’ll be finally recognised for my hidden talents,
in this lifetime before I die, make some cash and have some talents.
And a kind heart.
I feel like I’m on the right path, I enjoy it,
but I need some outside validation to certify this is true.
Is this lack of confidence or majority rules truth?
Why I sometimes wish I could say,
“Yes, fuck the world. I don’t care what anyone says I’m gonna go my own way”.
But no man is an island.
Why it’s the little moments of “connection” *gag*,
that make me feel grand and like maybe I am alright and a good enough human and I can handle life. And maybe everyone is just as weird as me, scarred and struggling in different departments and ranges but still, maybe it’s not just me…
Why it all leads me back to you, even when I’m talking about the gruesome and death. I think of you, because you are life
and you remind me why I am alive and why I should go on with life and I smile
And now I’m crying…
Because so far my life has been shit and I don’t mean to compare and sound ungrateful but it’s been hard…
But you, you give me hope,
you give me something to fight for
You make me understand love and I thank the God,
lately I’ve been sceptical of
But my faith, in a love like I’ve never know before
is now stronger than before.
So I put up my hands up and give myself a fervent Amen!
Because you warm my heart, even a million miles apart.
Because somehow, some part of me knows,
I loved you from the start.
I’ve written about this before,
how I’m not particularly mysticaI
but when I met you I simply felt at home,
although you were a stranger and I was so guarded…
Somehow you grew love in my heart
and I can’t explain this feeling, this madness you started.
I’m crying because I’m used to disappointment and tragedy
and maybe this romance is all in my head and you are in bed with someone else and not even thinking of me, ever.
And your replies are out of pity, courtesy or to pass the time.
I’m crying because I have a sadness
I don’t often allow myself to feel,
only when things are very real.
Like when someone close to me passes
and suddenly I realise I will never see them again,
hold them close and walk together this earth.
And so I can’t ignore my heart anymore,
it doesn’t whisper but moans, and
Fiercely it roars
With megaphones and dreams
coincidences and serendipity
you = love
graffitied in my soul
perpetually encoded in my core.