Please Don’t Make Me Love You

It’s hard enough as it is,
For you,
For me,
And all I do is sit and pray,
For you,
I’m really not like all the others.
I can’t just constantly move between lovers.
I can’t move on like that, you understand?
I wish people would stop acting like I can.
I talk about times torn by terror, outshined by our hope;
I write through these rhymes that slide, slur, and slope.
And though every day, for a different reason I strive,
I know in my heart you’re the only reason I’m alive.

It isn’t your fault, I know, I know, I know.

You don’t make me love you, I just do, I do, I do.

…You know. You do.



Do you ever wonder about the people who don’t quite know who they are?

Like that girl who just isn’t quite sure if she loves her best friend the same way that they did when they were kids, when they pretended to be sisters and would do each other’s makeup and whisper secrets on the playgrounds… or if she loves her in another way entirely, now. She never thought that she of all people… no, it couldn’t possibly be true. …But could it?

Or that boy who never quite felt in the right place, a soul trapped in a vehicle not built for it– and was teased, bullied, harassed, for not acting the way that he should, the way that all men are supposed to act; afraid to take off his shirt in front of the other boys because he feels exposed. He never believed that he could possibly be… was he really? Or were his emotions lying to him?

Or the woman who saw herself as annoying, obnoxious– she had no friends in the real world, because all her friends were online. Were they… fake?

Or the man who never felt like he belonged with the others, simply because he enjoyed attending conventions in which groups of people dress in fursuits?

Or the girl who looks in the mirror every morning, and fails to find the beauty in herself that all the others do, and tries to hide every imperfection?

Or the boy who can’t run the whole mile, because his heart simply can’t handle it, and dreads what he’ll hear when they go back to the locker room?

Or the ex-military man, a victim of terrorism who had his leg amputated, and constantly deals with people’s horrified glares?

Or the old woman everyone makes fun of for being so “simple-minded”, and she cries to herself at night because she can’t remember why her husband’s gone?

Or the man who wants to change the world, but barely has enough money for today’s meal?

Or the woman cast out by society, on the street, homeless, begging?

Or maybe you?

Or me?

And people assume! Assume that things are so much simpler than they really are! Have you not had ill-experiences yourself? It doesn’t have to be life-threatening for you to understand that not everything always goes the way we want it to! Instead of spending so much time “ranking” whose problems are worse and whatnot, maybe there should be more time spent on SOLVING THEM.

If you know who you are, I am happy for you. I really, really am. Because feeling like you have purpose is a very important thing in our world, in our reality.

But please have a little understanding
For those who do not know
Their true identity.

If And Only If We Try Again

If and only if we try again…

We may be okay, free, open, balanced.

We may be. Maybe.

We will see.

I will continue to build.

I will continue to create.

I will be who I am, dearest, and so shall you.

And we may be okay. We will be okay.


Time will tell for sure…

It has not ended just yet.
Patience, and you shall see…
~February 5th, 2016~


To Burn

This is old and unfinished, from around February. Hope to finish it some day, but wanted to post it here in case I didn’t.

When I think about
All the ways I lost you,
And the times we tried our best.
These feelings eternally brand me,
Your name burning in my chest.

You thought that you could trust me, but
You should have never stayed.
My blazes burned and scarred you,
Your trust I had betrayed.
I’m sorry that I can’t make up
For these mistakes I’ve made.
These faintly glowing embers
Of my dying faith will fade…

Shadow IV

I’ve long abandoned my hopes and dreams
Of having you here, with me, because,
I know it isn’t true. There is no path for me.
I am just a shadow.

Waiting for something, anything, to give me life again,
When a boy and girl appear in front of me.
She’s injured, and the boy lies her here, but what can I do?
I am just a shadow.

I sit here, serenely, under my tree,
Nearly entirely invisible in the night, still cast by the moon.
I do all I can to heal this girl, to let her sleep and dream well, but
I am just a shadow.

Dawn breaks, she wakes, and the boy holds her steady.
They leave, not knowing of me, to continue their journey…
I understand now, even without you, I have purpose.
I am a shadow.

And to an open future, I give my trust…

Labyrinth III

I sit here alone in the labyrinth, now. Alone for however long it’s been. There is no point in keeping track of the time anymore; I am trapped in my mind for eternity.

A break in the hollow silence. Footsteps, running. Speaking, but distant, so the words are unrecognizable. A door opens, and closes. Between the choices of rotting away in my corner, and following, I choose the latter.

Slowly, crawling, standing, walking, I make my way to the sound. I find the door, and crack it open very slightly, and I see the remnants of a very powerful energy… colors all around, beginning to fade. I can’t even begin to count all the pathways out. I have no idea where they’ve gone. It’s time to head back to the center. I’m up now, so I may as well see how the labyrinth has evolved.

Over another uncountable length of time, I finally navigate back to the center of the labyrinth. So many choices I could take, but what do I care anymore? I know where they all lead. A mind like mine can only evolve so much before it begins to deteriorate. To end the nightmare, I bring the spiral stairs crashing down. The dust and rubble slowly begins to disappear. It doesn’t matter anymore. I have no options left.

I hear the footsteps again. They’re coming closer. I hide behind a door, but leave it cracked open so I can watch. They walk in together, boy and girl. They do not notice I am here. Words are exchanged. I wonder if I have doomed them, trapped with me here, too. Without the stairs, there’s no way up for them, either.

But seconds later, they rise through the tower, holding each other closely, ascending to the top. Astonishingly, they float upwards, and reach the top, and seconds later, they’re out of sight. And it all quiets down again.

Maybe the spirit who resides here guided them out. I suppose now, whether or not this is my story, I suppose it’s time for acceptance…

Obsession II

No, no. I know. I get it. I am actually as terrible as you think. Give me a mirror, show me my flaws, day after day. Yes. I know.

Whether it’s “self-obsessed” in an “ignorant” way, or an “obsession with someone “else in a “creepy” way, I am always “obsessed”. If every thing I ever say, think or do leads to you drawing that conclusion, then maybe I am obsessed.

Obsessed with numbers? More like obsessed with people now, right? Or maybe it’s just you. Maybe everyone else in my life is a cover-up. Does that scare you? Should it? Why do you think I have the answers?

Move on? Yes, you think I haven’t tried? You think that isn’t what I’ve been trying to do, forever? Or is it just me being “overdramatic” again? Don’t worry, you surely aren’t the only one who thinks so. Maybe that’s why nowadays, I come across as so “unfeeling” to you, too. And maybe I don’t know whether it’s easier to try to accept and trust, or to shut you out and try to start over again. But that just brings us all back to the beginning again.

Maybe I’d rather not have to think about this anymore.