Posted 22 May 2012 - 04:39 PM
I miss you oh so much,
Ii ache for you attention almost as much as your touch,
you amaze me in so many ways, your beauty, intellect and crazy antics.
I miss having you in my arms, naked laying together just listening to you breathe.
Running my fingers lightly over your body, sometimes hitting a spot where you arch your back, always brings a smile to my somber face.
Trying my hardest to keep up with you in a conversation.
When I know very little about the subject but wanting to learn more so I can carry on the conversation to see if I can get a rise out of you.
I love when you get frustrated and you just wanna slap some sense into me
From drunkenly stabbing yourself in the wrist, jumping into dark water down by the docks, and driving like your escaping from a tsunami that just hit the shore.
your world doesn't depend on me, it wont stop because I am gone,
I'm afraid to miss even a moment.
I feel as if ill fade like an old style on the back burners of your fast track life.
Is that so selfish?
Whatever I'm angry about the situation that i have signed myself into.
I'm disappointed in myself for not having control over my life and renigging on promises that I should have known couldn't have been kept.
Fuck this Life.
I've lost faith in humanity as a whole and i do not have trust in anything or anyone anymore.
I am a ball of carnage wrapped up into hatred tumbling into a downward spiral.
Ive never felt passionate towards anything else and I feel like I'm the only person who is willing to express my views. Fuck it...whatever man I'm hurt I feel broken in two I want everything form you but I get a backseat to your fucking life, everybody is laughing at me cause I don't even know,
left in the dark I will grow into something evil,
So filled with hate and despair I don't even recognize me anymore.
Fuck this world and everybody in it.
I want it all to burn.
guess I could also call that last one Bipolar....
Posted 13 June 2012 - 11:06 PM
Edited by Idnaceus Crow, 13 June 2012 - 11:13 PM.
Posted 11 July 2012 - 08:14 PM
-Day by Day-
The freedom to sit on a bench peering out over the water with the lowering sun warming my face.
Ripples on the surface glimmering the setting sun in my eyes.
A soft breeze causing the leaves of the nearby tree to shiver,
And your long hair to blow against the side of my face softly tickling me.
My hand warmly in the place of your palm.
To never see the suffering caused by this world again.
No thoughts of the evil men whom desire my hastened departure of this world.
A much needed escape of the world continually visited.
The ball of warmth slowly slips out of sight, as my eyes awaken to the reality of loneliness and war.
Where the threat of an early death is real, and my hands are cold and alone.
Trudging forward knowing that someday I can slip again into my fantasy of the park bench with the slow fading of sunlight, a light breeze and the warmth of your presence.
Posted 31 July 2012 - 06:41 PM
A lot can happen in a month.
At the beginning of this thrity one day period he was happy and settled.
Everyday looking forward to that call he was to place every morning at 6am.
The pleasure of hearing the line click over and the sound of her voice.
Future plans where made, stories shared of adventures with friends.
Time dragged on and les and less conversation materical to cover.
Soon they were to the point of not knowning whom who was talking to.
A small pile builds into a mound on his chest.
After every click of the reeiver another rock falls into place.
An interruption of a story with a background voice.
The click clack of rocks tumbling on down the side of the pile,
Feet nearly visible, breath comes with a struggle now.
No answer for over a week now, the only voice heard is that of a robotic woman.
What is she doing?
Whom is she with?
What memories is he not going to be in now?
What he doesnt know won't hut him rings in his head.
It didn't hurt but it does now...
An outstreched hand reaches for a grasp of air then falters to the ground weakly.
It's the end of the month and he's reached his patience limits.
The man under the mountain dies a lonely desperate life in a distant country.
Posted 09 October 2012 - 11:56 PM