cheesy gordita crunch

There’s something in the air.  Every breath brings more of the billowing stench into my broken lungs.  How do you people handle eighty-something years of this?

I heard you say, “Last chance.”  I’m almost ready to mess this one up, too.  I’m fiery and jealous.  Stubborn and volatile.  I don’t want him to see you in that way.  Why did I have to fall?  We fall so that we hurt, hurt so that we learn, and learn so that we do not fall again.  I fell, I hurt, I learned, and I fell again.  You fell, you hurt, you learned, but you’re not willing to take that next step.  He’s guiding you through this.  Taking you in.  Holding your heart.  Letting it heal.  That’s my place.  My heart.  My dream.  Still all a dream.  A whimisical desire.

You’re back?  I missed you.  Remember when we used to walk this desert?  Crossing our senses as we traveled: filling our eyes with the bright noises, listening to the beautiful colors, and touching the glorious and malleable purfume of the night.  You’re beautiful.  I just can’t get over your burning eyes.  Your flowing words.  Your golden ideals.  I miss filling my nights with your company.  Even if it was only through words.  It seems like those months lasted a lifetime.  A lifetime… such a subjective word.

Killed with a thought.  You sit, lifeless, waiting for me.  What do I do?  What’s already dead cannot die another time.  Or so I tell myself.  You can’t hurt someone who has given up.

Yet, I do.

And finally, I find myself coming back to you.  “Confusion of calamities corrupting captive concerns.”  I would love to sit down for several lonely years and write a book with you.  Spend my time getting to know you.  Learn about every facet of your life.  Your body.  Your mind.  I want to live inside of your head.  See your thoughts.  Hear your heartbeat, like a thunderous charge of life.  I want your heart to beat for me.  Don’t let me dream, though; I’ll get lost in the details.  Give me my wish, and I’ll live in your world.

A Valentines day wish in four acts:

I.  Lost and Found
What’s gone is not forgotten.  Feelings persist.  They don’t decay.  I thought they would.  They’ve only strengthened.  Seeing others take my place.  Feeling what you felt.  I’m lost.  Yet to be found.

II.  Stepping Up
I am stronger than this.  I won’t let my desires get the best of me.  Sexuality is such a taboo.  Animalistic.  Crude.  Controllable.  Yet such a basic part of human nature.  Embracing it involves stepping away from society.  Ignoring it only builds it up.

III.  101 Things a Dead Person Taught Me
And I’m still learning every day.

IV.  The Price of Love; The Humor of Fate; The Endless Trail to Somewhere
“I stretch myself across the world.  Pushing my limits for your entertainment.”  I would try harder if I knew how to feel.  If I knew how you felt.  I would give myself up.  You’re so mysterious.  And I love that about you.  Except I want a part of the mystery.

Lovers wait for the day.  The Day of Death or the Day of Tragedy.  One or the other will come.  Love is not eternal.  After death, is there a choice?  Freewill?  If you believe in heaven, explain to me its paradoxes.  A life without sin means a life without choice because sin is one of two choices.  Or is the final choice between Heaven or Hell?

I’ll end with this:

I.  I loved you
I don’t want this for you but I can’t change who you are.  After so long, I wish I could know how you felt.

II.  I miss you
You’re beautiful.  You’re genuine.  You’re a step closer than before.

III.  I trusted you

IV.  I belive in you
Don’t give up.