pathetic

I’m just going to let my pen write whatever it wills

for I have no will in this matter

and what will I do have doesn’t seem to matter

I don’t know where all the rainbows went

The ones that promised me some sunshine

the ones that whispered an end to the rain

There’s a cruel twist on the lips of fate

and all my leaps of faith are come to nought

Nothing is never enough for me

And nothing is everything that is me…

I dared to dream of the impossible

but impossibility would not be tamed by wishful thinking

I wished upon a star so hard

that the night never ended

And darkness became the cloak that hid you from me

and hid me from the prying eyes of love…of life

It seems riddles were never meant to be solved

At least not by me

and never by fantasy

Why did I even arise from the ashes

where I sat content with my discontent

With head bowed against the harsh sun that brought life to many

but nothing but burnt offerings to me

My heart is turned to stone,

The only recourse for a soul desperate for relief from too much emotion

I will lose myself in the mundane

and concern myself with those insignificant outpourings

of a visionless heart…

Why do I even write

When the thoughts of my pen only bring sorrow to my sorrow

and cause pain to my pain?

Why do I even think of a tomorrow

when tomorrow spared no thought for me?

Who will receive this wretched offering of a wretched heart?

Who will lead me gently to sleep?

Why do I even ask questions

when I know answers hide where I cannot go seek?

Maybe I’ll just yield to the inevitable

and spread my thighs to the unconquerable

and let the darkness rape my soul

Spilling its seed of insecurity, obscurity, and unheard mutterings

of a mind lost to despair…

Stop!

Give me back my words

…My thoughts which you have thrown into disarray

They’re all I have left

The memory of a foolish dream

The foolish memories of a dreamer

The memories of one foolish enough to dream