Words

(Written April 21, 2010, at age 23.)

With words we break each others' hearts,
We hope the silences will mend -
Until the silences hurt even more.
Then with words we pretend
That a few pieces of our broken hearts
Found the strength of steel
And finally have the unadulterated courage
To tell each other how we feel -
Until we start to speak again,
And realize we're still in tattered parts,
And the only way to protect ourselves
Is with words to break each others' hearts.

Stupor

(Written February 11, 2010, at age 22.)

In a semi-conscious, dehydrated stupor,
My mind wanders.
And finds, as it always does,
You.

Questions begin to take shape.
Answers shatter out of sheer disappointment.

I marvel at the nature of loneliness.
So hidden, so invisible,
It sneaks up and stuns me.
Stuns me into statuesque motionlessness.

Heart afraid to beat,
As it soaks this world in.
Eyes turning to glass,
As they leave this world.

Then I feel a beat and a blink.
And the hollow sculpture of me melts.
Into you.

Liberator

(Written January 3, 2010, at age 22.)

I sit,
    Back slumped.
I look,
    At you.
I burn,
    And I turn to ash.
Yet I breathe,
    And talk
    And laugh.
Lighter in hand,
    Cigarette in mouth,
    I see myself in both.

[The buzz:
    A liberator.
You:
    The liberator?]

Which Part?

(Written May 20, 2009, at age 22.)

"which part of love do you love?"
the passion.
"which part of love do you hate?"
the sadness.

"which part of hate do you love?"
the passion.
"which part of hate do you hate?"
the sadness.

wherein lies the difference, then?
in actions alone?
because otherwise they feel the same.

Dance Alone

(Written November 17, 2007, at age 20.)

i close my eyes and concentrate,
and listen intently for the slightest sob;
when i start to sense a rising weight,
i feel desperately for any beat or throb.
do i still call it a heart romancing,
or a heavy stone?

in finding failure on every course,
and letting tears openly flow;
in realizing in me a deep remorse,
and accepting my sorrow,
have i shrunk to self-lancing,
or have i so grown?

standing with a smile in a crowded lair,
each familiar face a single blink,
my favourite song pounding through the air,
the phony curve of my lips makes me think:
is the dance really worth dancing,
if i dance alone?

Explain

(Written October 4th, 2007, at age 20.)

(1)
where are you?
i sit here and wonder,
where are you?
i need you to come,
come to me,
and explain.
explain what is happening.
i miss you.
that's fine.
but everything i wanted,
everything i wanted with you,
is right in front of me.
but nothing feels right.
nothing feels
the way it was supposed to.
what is happening?
i need you to explain.
where are you?
come,
and explain.
this mystery of life
baffles me so -
why i feel this way,
would you happen to know?

(2)
come, come back,
and explain to me
what i'm feeling
what it is i see.

it's all in front of me,
that i once wanted with you.
i just have to consent,
that's all i have to do.

but none of it feels right,
the way it's supposed to.
is it just because
it's not with you?

all the situations we
imagined being together in
i have them now
all around me they've been

the hours spent
at a stretch,
the study, the play,
the bliss, the wretch.

it's all here,
around me, waiting.
and i'm unmoved,
not loving, but hating.

none of it means
anything at all.
it doesn't feel big,
it feels strangely small.

is it all just because,
you're not the one it's with?
at the end of it all,
is that the pith?

if that's the case,
why aren't you here?
why are you so far?
and nowhere near?

come back,
and be the one
with whom these moments
don't come undone.

Across Empty Rooms

(Written September 23, 2007, at age 20.)

across empty rooms
you sit
indifferent
to my faceless expressions.
engrossed
in a world
so much your own.
i am a stranger.

across empty rooms
you (don't) speak
to me
through the clattering of your keyboard.
your conversation
with someone else.
i am an outsider.

across empty rooms
i pretend
to be just as unaware.

across empty rooms
i try
not to wish
(for more).

across empty rooms
i fear
the echo of my pounding heart will be heard.

somehow,
across empty rooms
i want you to want me more.

my eyes fill with more than they see,
somehow,
across empty rooms.