Self-Assassin

This inner-turmoil,
I must remember,
is just that:
inner
turmoil.
Chaos created
from within
the confines of my own mind.
Distrubances
that only I
can see, hear, taste, or feel.
And yet it couldn’t be more real.
It is the power
and the pit-fall
of every human soul.
The need to know
if
and when
and why
and how.
And the need to know it
now.
Without regard
for repercussions
or remorse
for pride gone wrong.
And once we find the answer,
we claim we
knew it all along.

Over

It was over before it started.

I was empty-handed.

You were empty-hearted.

I was reaching blindly

into your abyss.

No surprise it ended up like this.

See, I had no reason

and you had no rhyme.

And it was all a great waste of time.

Never would have happened.

Never could have been.

Just another battle I’ll never win.

Just another love

draped in illusion.

Time to unravel this grand delusion.

And at the core

what it will say

is that things were meant

to be this way.

Love’s Reflection

In love’s reflection
of affection
I am blinded by the light.
It’s my good side.
It’s my bad side.
No, it’s the way my face hits the light.
In an imperfect symmetry
of hope
of joy
of pain.
Do not shift your focus
or the whole feeling will change.