pain

Crimson Regret

Understanding that to love
was to give of myself:
uncensored; pure;
and naked.

Knowing I would willingly let
you into chambers which
were always empty;
empty for a reason…
Haunted by nothingness
but constantly waiting for something-ness.

Knowledge is power –
and power can destroy!
I destroyed myself
in letting you walk
the corridors of my emotions!
I let you in
and you walked
and walked…
I forced you to walk!:
I pushed you!

Oblivious shades you worse:
my fault; not yours.
I knew the toxicity
of your love
yet I wanted to feel it!
I wanted to hurt!
I wanted to burn!
I wanted to cry!
I wanted to die.

Now I sit;
I cry:
crimson regret.

Spirit of Her

(In a calm, friendly and conversational manner.) You know, all my friends have girlfriends… It gets kinda annoying after a while seeing how they act around them, how they try to impress them. But I see the way they talk about the girls behind their back… They don’t love their girlfriends… They love the thought of a girlfriend. Because it gives them power, a sense of manhood. (Pause, thinking.) But what is it that makes a man? A real man?

You know, I’ve always been different like that… I’ve never seen girls as trophies… I’ve never seen them as prizes to be won. Maybe it’s the way I was raised… (Getting slightly more serious, but showing compassion.) Yeah, that’s it. Most of these guys, their parents are divorced… Their homes lack love. Maybe that’s why they treat the girls the way they do… Maybe it’s their way of dealing with what’s happening at home. But that doesn’t make it right…

Recently, I’ve really been longing for a girlfriend… Because I want to feel loved… (Pause, shift to slight sadness.) My mom died when I was only eight years old. She got cancer. Brain cancer. (Showing some upset.) I still remember the hospital visits… The white walls… The clinical air… The hopeless atmosphere… She deteriorated really quickly. She was bringing in most of the money to the family, so when she passed on my dad had to work overtime to keep my sister and I in private schools. So I’ve been lacking a bit of that love… Not that my dad doesn’t love me, he really does, it’s just not the same as that motherly love, you know…

Maybe that’s why I want a girlfriend… Need a girlfriend… Someone to love me… Someone to love… (Trying to lighten the atmosphere, smiling fondly.) I’ve always had this image in my head of this girl and I lying outside on a warm summer evening next to a pool, starring up at the cloudless sky filled with stars… Just being happy in each others’ presence and sharing pointless stories… To me that’s love… A bond between two people that is more valuable than all the world’s gold… (Pause. Deep in thought.)

(Looking upwards at the heavens. Truthfully, on the verge of tears.) Mom, I really miss you… I just want to feel your warm hug… I love you… I know this may sound weird but I believe your soul is now inside the girl who is meant for me… (With notable determination and desperation.) And I’m going to find her mom… I’m going to find her and I’m going to be with you again… Because that’s love mom… That is love.

comma-strife

a continuation of the struggles
which we must all bare
through all the pain
and the acid that
burns at our emotions
and erodes our youthful innocence

a continuation of something more
a beating heart beats like
a beating sun that breathes its bold
breath of heat

a continuation of the pain
that we all feel not because it
destroys but because it creates more
than what we realize
for only out of the struggles
emerges the beautiful
as a pair is always defined
by the other
giving rise to definition

a continuation of the continuation
and a comma, to your pain
to your pain, a comma because worthy, you are
of the continuation to reach
the evading enlightenment of life

but this comma continues,
continues, comma, comma, comma-strife
until it
ends

fullstop

Sonnet of Pain

A broken heart and pain is all I bear,
Wrecked, torn, beaten and shattered by life’s fist;
My dulled soul seeps happiness from its tear:
Sharp, sickly shards which my existence mist.
I fell in love with those who liked real me,
They all changed the way I felt about life;
With them, oh, it seemed that I could just be.
They failed: results of the paternal strife!
My greatest strength, my greatest weakness too:
My caring and loving hurts me each day,
Unto life’s wooden cross I said, “I do.”
My debts on earth one day I will them pay.
But for life has not been that much so kind,
She has a reason: my life I must find.