Everything takes me back
Back to that moment
That moment when I mumbled
“I love you”
Every song I hear
Sparks a memory,
Like fireflies lighting up the gloom,
plunging back to darkness
Every word she breathes,
unique in their own way,
Speaks to me.
Her words drip with unintentional venom
paralyzing my heart
Everything I see
(Reminds me of)
The sweetness of her smile
(desperately striving to uncover),
The brightness of her laugh
(desperately working to unleash),
The trumpet-valve fingers flying
(desperately attempting to hear)
The music of us.
Each and every day
This terrible blinding pain
Pulses and oozes,
A gaping old wound,
Opening to spill fresh memories,
because of her
It’s awakened by darkness
Moments when I am
As if she might step out of the shadow
We’re a castle in the air,
a rainbow in the field-
An illusion. A mirage.
Some unforeseen haven,
Where I cannot find her,
Steals her from this world that I live in,
Yet she is there by choice.
This deadly driving pain
Is fueled by her light,
The light of my life, and
Warms my soul,
sparking my heart, kindling into flame
This screaming, crying pain
Tells me to hurt her back -
Bicker and fight.
“She hurts you every time she speaks,” it proclaims.
“Do to her as she has done to you,” it pleads.
I respond, “I will not fall into your trap.”
I argue, “She has not intentionally hurt me.”
This insufferable, cutting pain
Feeds my fears.
A beast of hurt and hate
Lives in me,
And, with every burst of pain, it
Shakes off more of the slumber I placed there to keep it down.
If it does fully awaken,
None will be safe.
All will know my wrath:
Raging. Roaring. Rearing.
This dangerous living pain
Lives in me,
Breaches me, and it
It takes sweet dreams of her
And warps them into nightmares,
Nightmares that deny me sleep
This thieving, weakening pain
Holds me hostage
Bound and gagged,
And I remember -
The moment when she cried in my arms;
The time when she called for me over everyone else;
The point when disaster personally struck her;
The time when I was drawing and
She laughed and asked, “Are you painting a pretty picture?”
This conniving stinging pain
Breaks through my veil of solitude
Leaving me open to attack from the outside,
But they don’t know my pain.
They don’t understand what I’ve lost.
They don’t see how it kills me,
So they pile on more pain.
Their comments sting:
“It’s your fault she’s gone.”
If only they knew the whole story, the real story,
She remains unaware
Of how much she has hurt me.
If she knew
She would despair,
Cry out to me, and
Place herself in more danger.
I couldn’t do that to her,
Even after all she’s done, so
I won’t tell her, because
I love her.
This terribleblindingdeadlydrivingscreamingcryinginsufferablecuttingdangerouslivingthievingweakeningconnivingstinging pain
Is here to stay.
With her beautiful black hair that shines in the light,
And her deep soulful brown eyes constantly viewing the world with hope,
can heal the wound.
Only she, with her sweet voice,
Like honey and lavender as a noise,
And her infectious laugh that echoes inside my heart,
Can heal that wound.
She holds my life in her hands,
Controlling my very being,
Like some perfect puppet master
Pulling every string
To make me dance.
Only she can realize
My love for her is fueled by pain.