The thoughts of heartbroken or lonesome individuals still seeking love.
| The hopes and dreams of every morning, starting off so strong and bright,
but then as if in warning, begin fading in and out of sight, stretching out, almost paper thin, gone with the wind...
I wonder...do I ask for far too much, such simple things like a loved one’s touch, for an affirmation of affection
from those whom I desire a connection, or is there some strange misconception about my motivations and/or intentions?
If I remain unclear as to who I am and what I want, simply ask and do not taunt me about that which I have yet to know
or the myriad methods by which I may grow, for I have still so much to learn, I burn with passions that have never been explored,
I yearn to share my thoughts and feelings, engaging/dealing with demons of the heart and mind, body and soul...
or is that simply more than I am meant to share, to have someone who cares that much more I have no wish to live in my past,
I want to move toward the future, at last I know my worth and need to prove that I am more than those who've become my critics,
politics being what they are I do not wish to offend, nor provoke, I only wish to contend with the best, to enjoy life
(how much I still have left), to find employment which I enjoy, and remind myself what it means to love and not simply annoy.
and yet the more I seek to change the pace, the more I seem to stay in place...the words I speak to advance my cause,
seem only to give others pause...I know not why...I never have intended harm, never meant to cause alarm.
I only ever sought love and trust, instead of conflict or other’s disdain/disgust..so rarely do I try to flirt,
not one to be known for chasing skirts, and yet I am still left alone with memories of broken dreams,
and often awaken, screaming out in sadness/pain, again, I only want to stand tall and proud,
unbroken/unbowed, by my struggles...but what was it that I thought I’d find outside the boundaries of my fragile hide...
Did I truly think I’d find a mate, fate it seems had other plans, demands that I did not foresee, for time and again it has eluded me.
Day becomes night as the cycle turns, and yet the lessons that I have learned cannot compensate for that which I still wait for....
It’s funny how much I wish for something that I have never had, to the point where it begins to make/drive me mad.
Ignore the symptoms of this disease no, better yet watch me bleed onto the pages every time these thoughts drive me to write/rhyme.
These wounds cannot be bound with gauze, nor does the pain result in some anguished sound, merely the scratching of my pen
against the table’s end. I think of those who’ve come and gone, who’ve forced me to grow stronger than I used to be...
yet still not good enough it seems, to, at least in part, achieve my dreams. I wonder who and what I could become
if I didn’t always feel quite so lonesome. Instead I’m forced to choke on all my frustrations, fears, bitter regrets;
even those I haven’t met, in the hopes that someday someone will give their heart to mine, and intertwine our path
through life with love and trust. Must I be a fool to feel this way? I fear it’s true, for I am not above these desires such as these...they tend to sear my soul like fire. please for here I am and here I stay, alone for all eternity.