April 28 2011 - writings of frustration

I wrote a somewhat angsty poem today, or I felt angsty while writing it. Enjoy. it's long, but do take the time to read it.

This death moves oh so slowly.
And by now you don't know me.
You just know the pain you've caused.
And you don't care
Please don't stare
It's swooning me softly.
No time to make this work
there's too much hurt
too many lies I've tried countless times to drift away into the background
But I just move backwards.
Tripping and Falling: it's the only thing I'm good at.
It hurts and you know it but you won't let go
and this is fucked because our scars don't show
move slowly
take the time to see me
properly.
you've never really lost me but you still can't manage to win
And it's because this taboo line isn't a game
If I wanted fame I would've worn this pain in my eyes
But I need to see this clearly
and clearly you can't run very far before the chains of loneliness pull you back
I tried to break them but it's useless.
I need this
I need to see your tears to know that you're still raw, still real. A human being.
As real as your cuts. I can't kiss them better.
No one can. So don't slice so deep.
Feeling real has nothing to do with the physical being.
And you can't cut your soul. stop trying.
there is a place that I visit between asleep and awake
where the angel in you holds me until my tears have dried.
but it's not enough.
because eventually reailty rears it's ugly head and reminds us both what going on here.
This viscious cycle doesn't have brakes so peddle back to when you felt alive.
find a place where contentment flows all over your hurt
and spreads like wild fire.
You'll find that place, in my chest where you used to rest your head
when we would lie silently and let our souls do the talking.
it's the only place things make sense
the only time the world really stops
time never matters there, and neither does the past
Does the beauty frighten you?
Human beings are too complex
they run from the only things in life that ring true
When given a powerful emotion they stuff it away deep within
And now I have to dig.
Shovel in hand, heart on my sleeve.
These apologies don't mean much
We've lost touch with the inner drive that wills us to be good people
This trust is broken and you've run out of glue
let's wake up and start new
It's all I've been waiting for since the beginning
but your stuck in the middle of decisions that won't release you
the demons don't rest so neither do you
and neither does this aching, this... longing.
no one adapts anymore.
these minds are too clouded and the fog feels as if it will never settle
and there's no dancing in the streets
no rain to wash away these sleepless eyes
We don't want to let go of what's good
But what's good for us anymore?
It's a loaded question and I'm out of bullets. Out of targets too.
I'm shooting blanks aimlessly
and even the barrel doesn't want to make friends with my temple.
you say your a waste
I say: a faulty investment
but after this kind of time and effort there's no turning back
No scissors or blades can't cut these ties
i'm in this for the long run
and no one can convince me otherwise.
And sure we're ill in the head and this isn't healthy in the least
but if we cut loose i'll lose the only peace of mind i've ever known
and if we didn't know the sickest betrayal we would find ourselves unfamiliar
with this beautiful bliss that we stumbled upon after we finished cutting each other.
We've been through every play in the coach's book yet the score remains in limbo
we walk a fine line of alive and dying
and you're never in the mood for this intervention
but you need to pay attention
to what your chest is screaming
 don't you dare silence it before it gets to have its say
This feeling will never go away.
That's why it's called: undying love.