Don’t tell me my problem is how I see myself. That’s bullshit.
I know I’m worth it and I put myself out there again and again..
Despite the heartbreak, the pain of loneliness and the desperate longing, I get back up and do it over and over…
But it really is them who just don’t want me.
Even though it’s the worst idea ever and I know this… it’s still tempting.
Despite everything that was wrong with our “relationship” at least I know that of all the ways I wasn’t enough for her, none had anything to do with my looks. She truly LOVED my body, and as far as I know she’s literally the only girl who ever has or will.
She is an effete snob and thinks herself superior by social and financial standards…
But at least she is not simply shallow.
in search of:
someone who respects me
appreciates what I have to offer
I have so much to give but noone will even give me a chance.
I was looking so good tonight.
Fucking amazing in fact, considering what I have to work with.
She even said I was the nicest guy she’d met in all Australia.
Apparently that still doesn’t compare with a hot body and bad morals.
My life is literally pointless.
Is a ripe plum
Growing on a purple tree
Taste it once
And the spell of its enchantment
Will never let you be
Is a bright star
Glowing in far Southern skies
Look too hard
And its burning flame
Will always hurt your eyes
Is a high mountain
Stark in a windy sky
Would never lose your breath
Do not climb too high
The time with you was perfect. Never boring. Never wasted.
You were always the same; Intense and beautiful… Amazing.
I would look at you as we sat in places. You awed me with your sheer presence.
When I was away from you I would stare at your picture endlessly…
Something you never had a chance to find out. Something you’ll never know.
I would have done anything for you, knowing that it all could’ve been used against me.
I know what happens when you do that even a little… I have the scars.
For you, I would’ve pulled sunlight from thin air, and lifted the curses from your life.
I loved you so.
It’s tragic at this point. It’s like an ongoing funeral.
You’re out there somewhere, and sometimes I feel myself dying slow… knowing that you’re alive somewhere, and someone else is smelling your hair and touching your neck.
You know how those barbed and clawed nights can pass.
They rip the meat right off your back, send you into a corner and leave you with enough of your senses to realize that you’ll live to see another hammering night alone.
It’s a science, tries to determine underlying patterns in chaotic systems like weather, ocean currents, blood flow sort of things. But it turns out that are few things more chaotic than the beat of a human heart.
It’s beating up, slowing down. Pretty face, flirty stares. It’s always changing on what’s happening to ourselves out there. It’s an erratic son of a bitch. But underneath all of that bump-da-bump mess, there is in fact a pattern, the truth, and it’s love.
Most important thing about love is that we choose to give it, and we choose to receive it. Making it the least random act in the entire universe. It transcends blood, it transcends betrayal and all the dirt and makes us human.