An Advent of Sense

I know that we have a problem. It's been swirling around and within us for what seems like ages. I, being the communicative one, always bring it up. We used to be fire! Consuming our bodies. And I still feel that way. Then why, every morning, when I move to touch you, do you turn so coldly away? I'm so overwhelmed with these feelings, I've shared them so often with you, and yet things have not been healed. I'm at a loss for what to do. Improvement has happened, indeed, but it's so painful having to wait for the person you want to want you again. I've read all the articles, reasoned out all of the possibilities, but no conclusions can be drawn. I love you with such a vigor and such a conviction, and I know you feel the same way. This is all about you. What can't you find in your soul, body, and memory that prevents you from being with me? I want to help but I've tried I am beyond it, I suppose. That is so hard to admit. We need...

I don't want somebody else. I don't want to drastically change who I am. I'm not unhappy with my life, I just want to be excited! Vibrating with the pleasure of being alive. It's hard to remember feeling that way, sitting on this train, going to work somewhere that is ripe with the possibility of that feeling... I guess I'm just bored and uncreative! We get in these continuous ruts where all we do is sit around, watch TV, eat, complain about boredom, drink, and stay up too late. I hope that's just a common summer syndrome.

No one's ever up when I'm awake. I swear the small hours are like daggers etching rivers of blood in my skin Leaving dark pools under my eyes to reflect my haunting. It's really not that bad It's just that the solitude of a dark room brings tears to my eyes quicker than a flesh wound Dampening the sheets that would keep me covered and safe. There are certainly other people in this house But to go to them and lay with them seems futile now Their dreams would bounce in their heads, thrashing, while I laid still, wondering. And I know that there are people who love me It's just so hard to remember when you are the only one alive at the moment With no one's eyes or smiles to create a life force for you to cling to joy. And I'm not really sad, or have no reason to be The weight of sleep and the burden of an overzealous mind pull my eyelids shut But bids me think until my brain no longer works and I die I mean fall asleep.

I can still remember when we first caught fire sparks grew up from embers never seeming tired I can hear you whispering softly while I cried I've never been loved this way. Riding our inferno engulfed and don't know why nothing is more tender than the flame that's in your eyes and I can hear you whispering that I make you better light you from within And never let you go dark. And surely there'll be smoke that we'll release but then we'll burst out and increase. And there'll be air that we will breathe so that our blaze will never leave. We will be scorched and think we're through but we'll emerge as something new. Words of love to stoke our fire you lift me up and take me higher.

I’m looking for something to make me feel electrically alive Without getting high or intoxicated I know I’ve felt that way…we can’t miss what we’ve never had, right?? I’m waiting to not rely on others to affirm my strength and appeal Just so that I can feel twice the person I am I’m searching for the people who will flow with me And never be brought down By the vines of what is accepted I’m seeking the wisdom and experience That will enrich, shock, and free me Always telling me to feel, think, and do for others I’m longing to love with a fervor and ferocity That will light me up from within A love that will heal and grow And taunt and cherish And give and embrace And take and deliver. So I’m still looking. Wait Is it already here? Has it passed? Is it yet to come? So I’m still looking?

I was intended to be a flower. A delicate beauty that would bud And bloom. So like the Spring I would come And go Quite subtly about my way. Bending and wilting As the sun told me when. Obeying the rhythms of Nature. I was supposed to shed petals So soft and so gentle  Upon the Earth for all to admire. Waiting for someone to pluck me on up And carry me home to display. But something must have gone wrong When they placed my bulb in the ground. Perhaps just a bad patch of soil? Or not enough water or shade? Because to my intentions' greatest dismay I grew tall and proud into a Tree. Sturdy and strong like an ox Only letting sun pass where I choose.  Reaching out far to the corners  Of the Sky. Helping the world to breathe. Telling all who behold me: I am Alive. I am Real. I am Free. Deeply rooted in all that is Me. 

That hardened stone inside your chest cracks with each pulse and each beat I hear it thud and am desirous to know Why ever we were cursed to meet Your once heat-driven hands are stone Your searching eyes have ceased to move Your chiseled features set in rock Weather more slowly than your love Once upon a time you etched Your passions in my willing mind Where once I sculpted your slants and curves now only monolith I find So I set to work on my fresh new plot To break your cold statue heart For you've influenced mine to be solid as well So we'll crash till we crumble apart.

Betwixt the death that circumscribes this mournful scenery My love doth bathe in lighted cracks of neolithic heart And though it shines he sees me not and speaks strange words to me My angel sculpted out of stone, indifference is his art. Denied I am but know ye this, his heart does beat for me Can earth not quake, and rock not break, and bastion make move? His rattle and divine schism do whisper stoic poetry Unto mine ear where grace doth build a fortress to my love. And so I press away my soul and urge him still to live Without me gripping fast to stone, what have I still to do? His artful time and cunning eyes he need no longer give No flower ever met a crag and found so sweet to woo. I give my last farewell to thee, make haste, remember well I break my life so passionately, I'll remember thee in Hell.