Continued Poetry from Before

I can hear it again
that beating in my ears.

I'm not sure what it means, but I think I can hear you again.

I want to see you tomorrow

If you don't mind, I'd like to spend the night.

I want to show you what I did this week

Show my sister the person I see in you

Then there is pain pulsing thorugh my ear and into my neck
It comes from the air swirling around me

I think that's the real world

I was listening to it for a while, but who is really right?

When your hadn envelopes my neck, your plam pressed into the soft parts of my skull, the rest of the world disappears.

I need to find a balance between you and the everything else

between those green glass bottles and my ancient rays of Zeus

The pulsing is replaced by the steady tick of an industrial clock that even your palm can't defeat.

We have to choose.

and you know I already have.

Today is Easter. Ostara was on thursday. The weather is being nice and staying warm. Aside from the school semester coming to a close, everyting is really good.

My sister flew in this morning and is currently in a van somewhere between the airport and my dorm. I'm glad she's coming. While the next week is going to be insanely hectic because of her, I don't have any hesitations.

I'm starting to slowly acquire the scent of sunscreen that summer inevitable bring.

The Sister just arrived.
so goodbye.

Forgotten

Who’s time did we borrow?
When I cut you out of my life, out of every hour and every second, every missed sunrise and waited for sunset, there wasn’t any time missing
How can my life still be complete?
I should be missing days at a time, entire memories and events should have been completely erased.
And while I don’t remember you, your lips on my skin, I’m missing nothing.
I have everything I started with and every thing I learned without you in between
I once thought I couldn’t live without you and now I can’t recall your name.

I wonder if someone else is missing time.
Did we steal it from them? Is it gone forever or just now been returned?
I hope they get it back and I hope it is filled with all the emotions I might have felt, but now can’t remember.
I hope they use it better then I did and if they ever lose it that they feel the loss.
Because its time I didn’t need, I just wasted it playing with you and now it doesn’t matter anyway.
The rest of this time is mine alone and I hope to full every un-definable piece of it so it bursts and overflows
And you, you have your own time.

There is no beginning and no ending, but things keep changing and continuing. Life is not a circle, life is loops, that only slightly overlap when they double back, but they keep moving away and away and away and you have to run to keep up and just when you think you know where its going and you're almost on top of it, the direction changes and your behind again.

why do we keep playing this game? Not that I think there is a better way or an alternative, but still I will ask the unanswerable with the rest of the masses: why?

Will I ever find out?

A New Beginning

I don't think you ever really have a new beginning. The past clings in the deeps pores of my skin and I can't scrub it out. But I can deal with that and it you don't get too close you wont see it either. But sometimes people get close enough, i'm caught a little off guard, they sneek up on me and they see into my pores and they see all the blemishs and they don't know how to react and their habits change and they lose sleep and they give long lectures and I slowly back away. I try to refocus myself in their lense, but they are stuck on those blemishes and they just want to fix them and I just want them to forget and its happened a million times and its aways the same. How do I tell someone in the beginning that it will end the way it always has? Will they really want to know? Will it really change anything? Why start again?

Needly to say I'm trying to ignore the past and the present which seem to have rolled themselves into one and I see every boy and man who has ever tried to love my before my eyes in the same person. And its a little different because we're both older, but you still don't understand and I still can't/ don't want to explain. Its just how I feel there isn't an explanation. I've never had words to explain this and you tell me its not normal and that doesn't help.

But this time you said it too. You voiced my problem. Before it was only a whisper in my brain, a thought dancing across my synapses easily enough brushed aside. You're right. I can't love. I never have been able to. At least not romantically. I believe I love my parents and my sister, but that's different isn't it? That's not the kind of love you want. I don't have passion for people. My eyes don't light up when I see you. I don't scream when I want to touch you so badly it hurts - well, that's what I'm told its supposed to be like. I like planners and schedules and organized pages. Those make my eyes light up. Maybe sometime is wrong, but its never been different.

I hardest part is when you realize I can't love you back with the same intensity that you love me. I can feel the pain behind every glance and every accidental touch. You can't kiss me anymore. You can barely say good morning. I'll stop spending the night. My draw will slowly empty. You'll stop seeing me at work. I'm looking for a new job anyway. Soon you'll through my toothbrush away. I won't be able to use it from across the country, I'll have bought a new one. Then one day you'll open my draw - just to look - and see that ring you gave me, the one I wear around my neck. But it will be alone. The chain - which was mine - won't even be there. So you'll take the ring out and put it on your desk. You bought new boxers and they don't fit in the other drawer. That's when I'm gone. An ocean away. Don't let me fill your thoughts. You'll only be another shadow in mine.

I won't give you this blog address. I don't want you to read this and know the end yet. If that's where you left this fall to.