Someday, Maybe

Someday, maybe
Those are the words I used to think to myself
When I would sit and watch you from afar
Dreaming up all the wonderful things you must be up to
And even after we were far from each other
I would dream about you
And build you up like a doll
Dressing you up in my fantasies and desires
All the qualities I wish I had, I instead gave to you
Someday, maybe
I would dream but never allow myself to think it
You were, I thought my desire
But in fact you were my obstacle
All the things I wanted you to have
All the things I thought I lacked
I had them all
And you finally faded from my memory
Finally
And I finally stopped dreaming
Finally
Slowly, I started to see those merits in myself
So, finally, I am ready for you
Someday, maybe

That Lump In Your Throat

There is not a lot left that motivates me
I wake up each morning wondering if today will be any different from yesterday
And I go to sleep each night trying to forget just how similar it ended up turning out
I see no end in sight for a long time
And no forecast of change
The only thing that keeps me going is a memory
When I would look at you, and get that lump in my throat
As if on the verge of not being able to breath
Or perhaps like five seconds before starting to weep
It's a memory that reminds me that I once felt truly alive
That perhaps one day I'll feel alive again for someone else

Leave Fear Behind

Take my hand
I can take you from this place
Guide you from the dangers and worries
Right through to where you should have been all this time
I know where it is
I know because I can't go there myself anymore
I can just walk along beside
Doomed to feel content and nothing more

Soft Sense

You are like the word soft
For me the word soft completely personifies the sensation it describes
Soft things are soft, as the word soft is also soft
In the same way that your name so perfectly personifies who you are
I think that because no other one word really describes just how wonderful you are
Even the word wonderful doesn't quite do you justice
I sometimes have dreams about other people that I know
But never about you
I don't think my subconscious can handle trying to portray even a caricatured version of you
And yet I sometimes think
You make me feel the way soft things make me feel
Warm and comforted and safe
You make me feel soft

To Whom It May Concern

I've written all these letters to you
So many, countless, letters
With words and thoughts that amaze me that they could come from my own hand
With expressions of love and wonder and grandeur that I never thought I would ever be capable of feeling for anyone, much less have already felt
And the greatest loss of all
Is that I don't even remember your name

All Dried Up

The day has come and gone
You who filled my entire existence at a time
Simply snuffed out
Quiet shuffled away like the end of day litter
I think about all the things I should want to say to you
And none of it strikes me as useful
None of it seems to matter
Sometimes once a relationship is dead, it's just dead and nothing more
All there's left to do is grieve and move on

Fixation

I want to live on for you, not as a person or even a fond memory
I want to live for you as an idea
Not the words that I said to you at a party
Not any specific compliment (or insult)
I want to live as the thoughts that those words spark in your mind
The nights you lie awake, wondering if its true
Inbetween the spare moments you stare off into space at work
The weekends where you work tirelessly to prove it all wrong
The hours you spend pushing yourself to be more than you were
I want to live in your existence
Long after you have forgotten the words that spurred your change
I want to live in the new self you become
When you finally stop being your own biggest obstacle

You Can Still Save Me

As the undercurrent pulls me down
Tugging on each toe as I fight to keep my head above water
I gasp one final breath and fall under the waves
Struggling and fighting
Crying out futilely under water, for help
Praying in my mind for a savior
And as the darkness eats at the edges of my vision
I look down
Accept the inevitable
And dive deeper to see what may come

Most People

With most people you don't feel all that close
But there's those few that make it within your guard
The ones you think about at the end of the day
Or maybe just on Monday mornings
You may not even like them all that much
But they're there just the same
Those are the people you should hold most dear
Your heart knew to let them in
So never let them get away again

Just Want To Talk To You

All the times I sat at home and wondered what you were doing
All the times I was with people I couldn't care less about
Wishing that you were there with me to laugh at all their awful jokes with me
The stretches of time I spent so far from you
Fulfilling my own dreams
Becoming the man I thought I always wanted to be
Now all I can think about
Is how I would trade all that time away for one more day with you
I just want you back
I just want to talk to you, one last time
To tell you what I had for lunch today
To tell you about the stupid bitch at work
All the things that I once thought weren't worth talking about
All I can think about now is that I want to tell you everything until my voice runs dry
And even then I want to keep whispering with a cracked voice
I want to tell you I thought we had more time
I'm sorry

The Newly Wed Game

I like to sit in the lobbies of buildings and watch the couples come and go. I like it the way I like watching movies with sad endings. I imagine what they must be like, the kind of people they are. How they met each other. Why they love each other. It depresses me every time. It depresses me because I always come up with stories of how they met a long time ago, and had so many things in common then, and they used to look a lot more attractive, in general and to each other. And as time passed, they got lazy, both with their interests and their looks. They stopped going out as often. Except for their once a week date to the same old bar. And birthdays and anniversaries and holidays are the same tired story every year. And it's just a countdown to divorce or children, whichever comes first. They both started to recede into themselves, happy that they at least found someone. Happy they didn't end up alone, content that they have someone they can rely on, but ignoring the part of their soul crying out for passion. For love. They do more things on their own, more of their lives are secrets from each other. Not even for any particular reason, it's not as if they're cheating. He is an internet expert on airline crashes, she frequently is at bars hitting on girls - not because she's a lesbian, but because she likes knowing she can still attract people, without it 'technically' being cheating. They have sex once a week, on Sunday afternoon (because usually they have no other plans then) - it stopped being making love a long time ago. It's just mechanical, their lie they tell themselves that things are still okay.

Just before they leave my sight, just before the elevator door closes and they leave my life forever, I hope that I'm wrong, and that things will work out (or that maybe they're just brother and sister). But I never really believe it to be true.

Life After Love

I hope there never comes a day
Where you fall out of love
And are too old and too scared to do anything about it

Ynotophobia

Our worries grow to the limits of our perceived existence.

When you can imagine the world as far as the corners of the planet, your worries accordingly grow to encompass the globe. Fears of faraway wars, pollution, global warming, of shrinking rainforests, torture and rape and murder. Nightmares of a future devoid of life.

If your life is limited to the world you physically see, then your worries still fill your entire world. Fear of accidents and muggings. Of all the million and one misfortunes that could befall you from the moment you wake to the moment you're back, safe in bed.

(And perhaps even there too).

And if your life is limited to yourself, even in yourself you will find fear. Fear of toxins and poisons and viruses and bacteria and cancer. Of your own body turning on you.

Nothing in life is out to get you. There is a point in time where you will die. Between now and then your only enemy is your own fear. Your fear that will simply slow down the amount of living you do before that day comes.

To My Daughter

You don't live even as a dream yet in my mind or heart. You are just an idea. An inevitability, like how growing old or buying a house or retiring is an inevitability. There is a recess of my mind where it seems obvious that one day I will not only think of you more, but you will exist. I'm not sure why. It's almost a primal part, the part that still wants to fight for life. That refuses to be brought down by all the things that can and do bring me down.

What's funny is I'm afraid I won't make it to that day. Either because my body will have given up on me, or I will have given up. Or I may live forever, and just never get to meet you anyways. That's not the funny part. The funny part is while I'm afraid I might not make it to that day, there's no doubt about how I will fare from that day on. From that day on my life will go from ending with my own inadequate life, to stretching onward towards the future. And the rest of the little time I'd have left, would be for you. Of that, I have no doubt.

See you then.

Running On Empty

The ideas have long since run dry in my own head
I resort to stealing ideas from yours