Ripped heart

You have me caught in a vice,
Squeezing tighter as you twist my mind,
Preying upon my fragility,
Pouncing upon my insecurities
To wrap these strings around my wrists
And make me dance the way you want me to.
Every time I stand up straight,
Expending all my might to snap free,
You twist me right back up in your strings,
Using public displays and adoration
To spin a web of manipulation,
Because you do not want me free;
You do not care to see me happy.
You want me obeisant, feigning smiles
To soothe your insecurities
So you do not sleep alone at night;
But even beside you I am in solitary—
A specter next to you, lifeless—
Wearing only the masks you fix upon my face,
Speaking only the words you want to hear,
And, with each step, further crushing my soul
Until the weight of your pressure
At long last snaps me in two.


These, the Wings of Mirthless Musing

Can’t see how I’ll survive tomorrow
When yesterday’s gaffes still ruin my psyche,
Laying waste to this corporation of self-confidence,
Always reminding what I’ve missed out on.

It’s like my memory of you is parasitic,
Latching onto every thought and sucking it dry
So that there’s nothing in my mind but you
And a ridicule to afflict what should be divine.

As I replay our colloquy frame by frame
I torture myself with words I did not say;
Trudging through the minutiae after the fact,
Even though it makes no shred of difference.

This is the nature of my self-centeredness—
Wallowing where I should be reveling,
For a chance encounter with you is a gift
Not to be profaned by bouts of insecurity.

A Pessimist’s Rumination

Dark ballerina

Tell me what you think I want to hear:
About the strength of the human spirit
Or perhaps the reward for perseverance.
Take all your advice and inspiring idioms
And throw them in the trash;
Light them on fire,
For I want none of them.

I don’t want to hear of beauty and success;
I want to hear of something real—
Something about the pain of living,
Of the hardship and struggle,
Not the outcome.
I want to know I’m not alone in this suffering,
As selfish as that renders my soul.

Don’t say you understand
When really you never could;
Don’t feign a walk in my shoes
When an atmosphere partitions our plateaus;
Don’t act as if we exist in the same dimension
Or see the same world through our windows.

Just tell me you’re here for me,
And that you’ll never leave my side.