Silent Treatment

This silent treatment has me thinking and feeling...
Feeling more grateful than ever!
I'm glad I am 7 again... and in the second grade...
My accidental mud pie sabotage resulting in this same thing!
Silence. Michelle wouldn't talk to me for 3 whole days!
That's a long time for a 7 year old... But now I am 29.
And now I really don't get hung up on these immature acts.
You were always one to punish and then deny.
You were always one to install self doubt.
And your silence has been golden.
My resilience has been fierce.
And still I try... but not out of sincerity...
But more so to make my point.
I am not who you think I am.
I am not who you wanted me to be.
And I am Okay with this.
I know almost every jealous moment escaping your mouth..
Or fingertips... screamed guilt.
And I was right-on about you.
And I was right about this.
And your silence proves you wrong.
And your silence proves me right.
And the silence shows just how insincere every moment has been...
With you... for you...
You were just a fantasy wrapped in a non-existent friend.

And I could possibly love you...... if I truly were insane.

Lend me your ear... lend me your hand...
Let me tell you how it is and walk you back through how it was...
And how we got here.
I toss and turn at night. I have art on the mind. I have new eyes.
New eyes to look at and look through and look forward to looking into.
Your memory is fading fast and to it I clutch... I pride myself on persistence.
But the inconsistency that makes this consistent leaves something to be desired.
I just though you should know...
I am moving on.
I have held hands with another idea of what my life should be, and is.
I locked arms with reality and let go... free falling from a "shot down" plane.
And it's as plain as day... that this was shot a long time ago.
Drifting with the wind... air under wings to keep this afloat just a little longer.
My friend's say, a little too long. (and I agree)

Pre-Mass Destruction

I am walking into what could be a brilliant disaster and I don't really mind...
I am not running away from the pile of decay that will grow with the aftermath.
I come without any defenses and I think my shield is finally down.
I welcome this... all of it...
This is a breath of fresh air. This is just what I need... right now.
Excuse me while I take a moment to be selfish... take a moment for myself, for once.
And I will consume and devour this. I will drag my nails and sink my teeth in... deep.
And I will let go.... when I'm ready........ and not one second before.

Pretty Little Waste of Time

I am left in silence and I am silently unaffected?
Without a voice, without a care... in the world.
And it's this that makes me realize how I hold stock in some things with no true value.
Pretty distractions are just that... pretty distracting. Pointless, even.
And you are always without a point anyways, truly.
And I am always misunderstood. Well, at least... I was.
Combining going no where fast with getting some place far too fast is toxic, really.
And I opened my eyes this morning and tasted the pillow with my smile.
And I closed my eyes last night without a thought of you, for once.
I am a force beyond your control. You are a passive (not so aggressive) waste of time.
You confuse patience with procrastination.
But for once... I am not confused. Not misguided by your over anylizing tendancies.
And I realize that the way I live is the way I live. I am who I am. (and it's not wrong)
So take my hand and lead me to heartbreak in another's arms...
Because I'd rather feel love than this nothingness...
I would rather feel a cold sharp break than feel nothing at all.

What is lost with success...

I reach out with my hands into the darkness to feel something familiar
There is nothing to brush against anymore these days... in the dark, in the light
The new has come to be what is familiar but I'd love to see your eyes looking at me
Look at me the way they used to before I accomplished anything at all
You always looked at me as if I were the sun and you were a small planet in orbit
And now people see me and want the world but I refuse to give up what remains... a tiny spec of dust or a memory of the hug that came before most all things
I miss being nothing at all
I miss being everything to you

Giving Tree

I go through these phases where I want to see the bones in my arm and I am unsatisfied otherwise. All the blood in the world is not enough blood and every single human interaction rapes my soul just a little bit... like a tiny little devil's kiss behind the ear... a whisper of mass destruction... every human sound makes me cringe and I can hardly eat let alone stand the sight of myself or the sight of you and you and... you. I can feel this and this is not natural and I am not this evil but my skin crawls with callous and I want to just give up.

Since when is fear a crime...

Since when is fear a crime of passion... committed against yourself?
Everyone has fucked you. Fucked you over. The internet is an evil place.
And the first time something good comes along you take it for a fucking ride.
Your fees are too high. Understandable expectations. Unacceptable behavior.
Two wrongs have never made a right.

But still you sit there expectingly. Preparing for the worst in your own little way.
More selfish than you realize. More selfish than you (actually) are.
And the nerve to think that history will always repeat itself.
The shit you learn in grade school can't always be true.

But you wished it away. You wished for things to be different time and time again.
And finally you learned a lesson. Finally you learned that they are, indeed, "all the same."
But this one might not have been what you were expecting.
But the possibility of this makes you uneasy.

High hopes carry a much longer and heavier fall.
So you went and did it first. Pain avoidance.
If he is already doing it I should probably be doing it too.
Keep the scores even and thus be easier to settle in the future-tense.

Because you were left high and dry far too many times by things unacceptable.
But you accepted them for 3 years, 2 years, 5 years - at a time.
Guys always suffer from that "better trophy out there" syndrome.
It has proven to be insufferable. It has proven recently to have finally changed you.

You are 10 years in the making.
A disaster when you should be a mansion.
The queen of organized thought downgraded to the queen of chaos.
Keep it all unclear so you can't get hurt because there were no boundaries.
Or because the boundaries were more open...

Open and shut case scenario.
Open and shut.