Love and Tragedy Among the Stars

Love stars

Here I am, a helpless creature;
One-of-a-kind, wandering this planet alone.
This is how it’s always been:
Spending nights looking to the sky,
Wondering what may lay in the cosmos,
And traversing the lands—
My lands—
By day, tending to the gardens
In a solitude tranquil but colorless.
I could nary believe it
When, like a sword splitting the sky,
Your vessel bounded into my atmosphere;
I sprinted through forest
And waded through river,
Terrified and excited to discover
What had landed on my surface.
Perhaps it was because I had seen no life,
No other species breathing, walking, thinking,
But I was blinded by your beauty,
Rapt with the way you joined me,
Walking the gardens, nourishing the land;
Two creatures so different,
Aliens in one another’s eyes,
And yet at once hearing of the hostility
Of your volcanic home,
Full of ash and melted rock,
I could do nothing but offer you solace.
A lifetime spent roaming lands alone,
And come to find out, this was my purpose;
That moment I knew the years had been worth it,
And no longer did I look up to the sky
Or wander my lands in search and yearning,
For you were all I was looking for.
Dismayed I was, when you refused to walk any longer;
The serenity of this planet was not to your taste,
And despite my pleas, you would not listen,
But because I could not let you go,
Having broken into my world with such verve,
I left this land I had so loved
To venture to yours.
It was horrifying, and the moment our feet touched earth
Our skin was scalded and our lungs filled with smoke.
There is no life in your world,
No growth or peace or prosperity,
But perennial suffering and strife;
You were more alien to me then
Than you had been when I first saw you,
Absent of concept of extraterrestrial life.
But I knew I could never be happy,
Never be sane among the molten rock,
And so I fled back to my home,
Never again to know if you were safe,
If you had left your home again
In search of some place better,
Where you might thrive and heal.
All I know is I walk my lands every day
And search the stars every night,
Hoping to find your vessel
And the untouchable soul that sleeps within.


An Appeal of Sorts


I often wonder what would happen if I were to die tomorrow.
Would the lives I’ve drifted into weep for me?
Would there be eulogies and platitudes spoken in my honor?
How would you remember me, at the end?
Would it be with fondness,
As someone who loved you, lifted you up,
And offered something no one had before?
Or would you feel caustic, hating me
For my deprivation and abandonment?
You see, these are the thoughts that torment me,
Urging me to tear the flesh off my face
And immolate myself in some morbid asceticism;
But there is no atoning, is there—
No erasing pasts or healing wounds?
I can only hope tomorrow will not be my last
And, more importantly,
That whatever day is, you will be there beside me,
Standing vigil as my soul departs this realm forevermore.


I’ve committed suicide again
In hopes that resurrection
Comes in more than threes.
This is why I’ve no fear of death;
I’ve done it so many times already.
I walk, a specter on this earth,
Mourning the dead I have joined,
Because failure in life
Was an onus my soul couldn’t bear,
But here in the domain of Hades
The silence is just as insufferable;
I am blind to the presence I cherished most.
Now more than ever,
I realize death is no solution
To the problems of life,
And I can only hope there is a necromancer
To revive me again,
To make me more than a revenant,
To make me whole.

Not All Love Stories End Well

Butterfly suicide

I am the luckiest human alive
To have found my savior,
My redeemer,
The one who keeps me alive
And shows me this world
Is not always ugly,
That there is something to live for
Amidst the horror reels
And insipid greys.

Yet, as the years have ticked by,
I have felt your scorn,
I have seen your lows,
And I have realized
That in all your greatness,
You cannot satisfy my self-deprecation,
Cannot fill my voids
Or consecrate my insecurities;
And every effort I make
To use you as my medium
To transubstantiate my sorrow to joy
Has failed miserably.

What I could never admit—
Because it would invalidate me
And prove me the fool I know I am—
Is that I placed you on a pedestal,
Expected you to pull me from the maws of hell
Without ever raising a hand to grab yours,
And in fact, I jumped right back in,
So that no matter how you chased me,
You would never catch me;
I would run your feet bloody
And your lungs depleted of oxygen,
And still convince you
That you should have done more to rescue me.

I was the luckiest human alive,
But now I exist in your colossal shadow,
Shuddering, teeming with anxiety and despair,
Always dreaming of you,
Reaching for you,
And killing myself over and over,
For I know I had one chance,
And for however blessed I was,
I am damned sevenfold now.

Epics and Tragedies

Teddy bear park

With the love we shared,
The ambition we possessed,
And the future we craved,
We were authoring
Our own personal epic,
But you have become a tragedy;
And make no mistake:
A tragedy is not some love story
Where a man gives his life for his lover
And through selflessness is redeemed.
There is no salvation in tragedy,
No hope or beauty;
It is ugly, ending in the ruin of a soul.
You have buried everything that is best about you
Beneath a life of recurring habit
And the company of the wretched,
Who would use your gifts
To sap the light from your spirit
And somehow leave you craving more of their abuse.
You were given the love you deserve,
But in the face of happiness
You offered only repudiation.
I know not why, but I cannot stand by,
Watching you destroy your potential,
Your brilliance;
And if this is the life you choose,
You will end up as alone as you think you are now.
You will not have my comfort or kindness—
Which you claim to cherish so deeply—
Or the solace of true friendship;
You will only have a barren future,
Razed by your search for instant gratification
And your unconditional disbelief
That you can rise above these tribulations.
I hope to god this is not your fate,
But it’s out of my hands,
And soon, I fear, out of my sight.

Are All Farewells This Bitter?

Horseman Death

The edifice has collapsed.
It wasn’t conspiracy,
Just a lack of maintenance,
Allowing the supports to bend
And the cracks to widen
Until it all fell down.
This is your life, or rather
Your existence,
Because you are not living,
Despite the oxygen you consume.
Those eyes are dead;
You are a wraith moving through this world.
You may declare otherwise,
But the confessions you purge
Are ludonarrative dissonance
Betrayed by your inertia.
You have invited apocalypse
To your doorstep,
And against the might of its fury
I am powerless;
This is the end.
The horsemen will spread their disaster
As you grieve over ghosts
And a life you never gave a chance.
I reached out to your rescue,
And in so doing
Sacrificed both my arms.
Helpless, bleeding,
And useless,
I cannot watch another tear drop,
Cannot hear another cry from your throat;
My sympathy has dried.
Now, with a back turned
And a fractured mind,
I leave in your personal Gehenna,
With all the prayers and supplications
I can incant on your behalf,
Knowing even as I do
It will never be enough.

Nacreous Vains

Bizarre storm

Hello there, beautiful;
I saw you a dream serene,
Infecting memories of a life long past,
Filling it with verve and vibrancy,
Turning the dull greys into verdant fields,
And it drives me to tears with each glance.
You stole my infatuation
With your wanton kindness
And took hold of my lust
With your sweet sensuality,
Never to acquiesce, never to grant release,
And always to impugn my sanctity
And leave me desperate, yearning,
Wondering where I went astray.
After all’s said and done,
I suppose it doesn’t matter much;
You, amazon of the fantasy,
Are simply too far,
Too transcendent for me to graze
Or look upon without going blind,
So in the recesses of my mind I watch,
Ever admiring, ever dreaming
And always, always reaching.