I lay in bed and whisper your name. The word drifts around the room echoing in the dark, leaving nothing but emptiness. I used to think your name would bring with it an explanation. I used to think your name would bring with it the experiences I missed out on growing up without you. I used to think your name was the resolution to life long heartache. But I was wrong. You owe more to me than just a name. And when the sun rises, it brings with it an unfathomable sadness, a longing that will never be fulfilled, a hole, filled with older men and sex and tears and confusion. For as I walk down stairs I know there is a table set only for 2. But I am glad I only know your name because my heart breaks for the poor soul who has to wake up every morning and see a monster. And when I look inside my self and see darkness I know that it came from you.
You crash into me like the waves against the shore. You pull me like the moon does the tides. You whisper into my ear like the angel on my shoulder. You make me whole and then you tear me apart. You plant flowers on my heart and then forget to water them. But still we dance around in circles, laughing in the midnight of our lives. thinking this is it, we will never be happier. but I can’t help but ask for more. I scream your name like a waterfall and pull you under in my flood. I will always be wanting more, I have been left with a void that even you yourself could fill. But you try, and you try and you replant the dead flowers and you let the rain wash away the dirt, and I moan when you tear me apart because I know you won’t leave until you have built me back up. And you keep pulling me back to the place where our love bloomed. It’s a roller coaster but I know you will never get off the ride, and neither will I
There are very few things in life that we can control. We are all just a bunch of insignificant organisms stuck on a unpredictable, uncontrollable, vastly changing roller coaster. And that is terrifying. As humans we don’t like uncertainty, we don’t like not knowing what will happen next, we want to have control, we want to be able to predict the outcome, we want to know everything there is to know, we want to believe we are the smartest, strongest, most significant thing on this planet, we want to have the perception that we are the most important things that exist on this Earth. This is why we are addicted the illusion that we have all the power, that we are in fact in control and although this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it isn’t necessarily true either, even the President’s power is minuscule in the grand scheme of things. However that being said, does it still bring us comfort believing we are in control? Yes, I feel better with the illusion that I have power than I do when I think about the fact that I have no control over anything.
I like to believe I am free of limits, of rules, of responsibility, my power is limitless, I have all the control, or at least the illusion of it, and this to me is comforting, it gives me a false sense of security….. And maybe this is why we humans act the way we do. Demanding control over the young, over food, over money, over land, over creatures over people. This is why we fight wars and kill, and hurt and bully. Because we are scared, we are scared and we are powerless. And that is something I don’t think will ever change, unless we can find something worth relinquishing our power for.
I don’t ask you for anything. I’m just asking you to love me.
I want you to touch my body likes it’s pure gold
I want you to kiss my lips like they are water and you haven’t drank for three days
I want you to moan my name in your sleep
I want you to look at me like I put the stars in the sky and I want you to tell everyone that I do
I want you to not be able to sleep, eat or breathe without me
I want you to touch me so much I have to beg you to keep your hands off me
I want you to move mountains for me
I want to be stuck in your head all day like your favourite song
I want you to not be able to sleep unless I’m touching you
I want my name to be tattooed on your heart
I want you to do things without being asked to
I want you to look at pictures of me like you have never in your life seen something so beautiful
I want you to scream from the rooftops that I’m yours
I want you to thank god for every second you spend with me
I want you to appreciate every little thing I do for you
I want to be your oxygen
I want you to love me as much as I love you…
People say that broken hearts are just figures of speech, that the heart is a vital organ critical for survival that it cannot actually be broken, however I would say otherwise. I would disagree purely for the reason that the pain I have have experienced can not be described as anything other than that of a broken heart. You see love, love is a dangerous game because when we love someone or something we leave ourselves vulnerable. Despite the fact that people make countless efforts to never fall in love it doesn’t mean they are immune to heartbreak. because They will still love their parents, and their friends, and their job, and their life, and their God and so many other things the human brain is capable of loving. And all this, all this makes them susceptible to heart break. This is not to say that once someone’s heart is broken they can never be okay again, humans are capable of miraculous survival and time can heal almost anything, so sure, we have broken hearts and we laugh and we love again and we find happiness and we make new beginnings but that in no way means we aren’t still hurt, that in no way implies we aren’t still broken, because some pains we experience are so excruciating that sometimes it feels as though that vital organ has actually failed and collapsed in on itself, and sometimes that feeling never goes away.
I sit in the grass as my head falls into my hands. Rain drops start to fall down from the sky. I feel the ice water running down my back. I stand up and see you inside through the window. I bang on it with all my might. You remain sitting on the couch, so warm and dry. I know you heard me as I now see your sad green eyes starring in my direction. But still you don’t move. I run to the front door and throw all my weight against it trying to get it open. It won’t budge. I catch a glimpse of you walking down the hallway. so I follow you outside to the bedroom window. Running across the grass, the cold, wet mud slipping around under my socks. Thunder strikes in the distance, and the intensity of the rain picks up. I can no long tell if the water on my face is from the rain or my tears. I see you in the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, looking down at the floor. I pick up a brick and throw it towards the glass. Nothing happens, and you don’t even bother to look up. Even the glass windows of this house are impenetrable. But I should know this by now. I have spent a good portion of my time trying to get in, trying so hard my hands are covered in blood from banging them against the walls, my voice so hoarse and almost inaudible from begging you to open the door, my feet blistered and sore from stomping on the roof, hoping to cave it in. I watch you through the windows every night. I see the pain in your eyes and your heart increase every waking minute. And yet I don’t understand, because you end every night by telling me you love me. You fill my brain with hopes and promises. You write me letters calling me your soulmate. But how is any of this true when I am standing out in the rain and you won’t let me in? How long do we have to keep up this charade until one of us gives up? How much time have you spent building walls to keep me out while I was busy taking all mine down for you? All I ever wanted from you was to be let in. But I am starting to run out of ideas of ways to break down your walls. I am starting to run out of hope that you will ever let me in. I am starting to run out of strength too. But every night when I fall asleep I still dream, dream that one day you will open the door and greet me with a kiss and a cup of coffee and finally let me in.
When you are born you are born whole, you are innocent, brand new, untouched. As you grow older parts of you get worn down, cracked, broken and demolished. This usually happens a little bit at a time as we grow older, sometimes it’s even unnoticeable, until one day there is nothing left. I have recently been uprooted by the discovery that I will never be whole again. That I am too broken to put back together. I use glue but it melts under heat, I use tape but it falls apart when wet, I use nails but they rust and break off. I ask people for help to put my pieces back together but they are too busy protecting themselves to worry about me. It’s not that I haven’t tried putting myself back together… it’s just when I finally have two pieces put back together a third piece falls off from a different part. I find myself scouring the Earth, looking for strength. Hoping to find a shred of encouragement, so that maybe, just maybe I can get up off the floor and put myself together one more time. And maybe this time I will stay together. Perhaps this time things will be different. It’s funny I used to think I was made of diamond, so strong, so beautiful and sparkly, unbreakable. But in fact I am only paper. And the truth is I’m worried about what will happen when the pieces are so badly damaged that there are no pieces left to try and put back together… but I guess I will shortly find out.