Come to your throne,

That place in my heart given

The place whence solace come

For you and yours alone

Just a lad am I

Dragging along behind you

Kneeling at your feet

Hoping for one look, one touch

Just one thing from you

To know that my favor isn’t misbestowed

But not a thing give you me here

Not a glance or a caress,

Not a word, not a path

I am mistaken, in my mind

For loving you is now crime

But my heart won’t these words speak

My heart just keeps loving you

Without reproach of what is right

What is true is that it is futile

But my heart sees this not

My mind might but

Too much time and too much pain

Have been given this utterance

Too much for me to walk away

Too much to be unscathed

This fire has died down

Now a freezing pain in it’s place

Now a thousand daggers in my heart

Now a knowledge

I must let go to be free of you

Even then I will be caged

In the prison that is your love

The cell that  I have woven for myself

I know that to love you is to hurt

To hurt myself.

But there is nothing I can do

Whenever I try to break this

I end up getting wound tighter.

Such is my story

So this poem started with the inspiration of one of my friends, Matt. His poetry sparked the beginning of this. It transformed as I wrote. This is unedited.



19 May 2010

She slips into oblivion

Hidden in this new tailspin

Stars flashing before her

Hardly has the strength to stir

Such a pleasent feeling here

When he says I love you dear

She melts herself down some more

Barely shadowed upon the floor

Song Bit

16 May 2010

Don’t make me cry now

Don’t make me sing out

You won’t like what you get

Do not force it

You might fo-orget

How it is that you breathe

My Ghost

16 May 2010

I go through my day, silent, an invisible whisp of thought. Until one of my friends brings me to life. I can’t wait until I am free of this. This feeling of being only a tiny bit of myself. When I’m not with friends, at school, I am nothing unless I hae a good day. Then I come alive, light and happy and smart. I can already imagine myself, living elsewhere. When I go to the mall, or am home alone, I feel like that freedom is within reach. I watch, at school, all the pretty people. I see those subtle festures that show their true feelings. The masks that people wear.

I write so I don’t cry. So I don’t burst out in anger at people. This is my escape. My way of dealing with things.

Some days I’m such a wreck that my eyes fill with unprompted tears. I feel only living truly alone, or with someone I love, will be good for me. Someday I will own a ranch, in the mountains or near the sea. And I will have horses. Beautiful, calm horses. Maybe one with no end of patience. And when the bad thoughts start go to them, love them, groom them, ride. Something of that nature. And the house will have a cat or two roaming around. The man I love as well. He’ll be sweet and ready to talk about my day until I’m ready to talk about his. Or his first. It will cheer me up.

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