Would it that it were
The extreme awareness
Attached to another’s existence
Then severed like a septic arm
But phantom limbs still hurt
The worst kind of pain.
I had intended on writing a rather sappy post today about my feelings/emotions lately and maybe explaining the piece above. I decided not to ‘lay myself bare’ for the world to see. I will say though, that people are not meant to go through so many emotions in the span of less-than-a-week, as I have…and still am?
I hate sorting through my feelings because I have to do something about them. Lazy Daisy- I think it’s too much work. So I write about them, then ignore them until they sort themselves out. Like magic. Because that’s how life works.
It’s not his voice, it’s fine…perfectly ordinary. It’s what he said…or how he said it? You realise you might have built a castle in your head, whose mere foundations couldn’t even be dug in real life. He just couldn’t meet the expectations in you had for him. Later that day find yourself in conversation with this boy and you are thinking, ‘This is the boy!! This is the guy?’ You look up to the sky while giving him those furtive glances you ask the heavens, ‘Really?’ You shake your head, for you had lost time in your waking (and dreaming) hours living in fantasies that are just embarrassing when you remember them in light of recent revelations about said crush.
In my waking hours when my hand is not wrapped around yours
I lay me down, just a couple of minutes, to catch a glimpse of you
Along the corridors, I go winding, my mind conducting tours
White washed walls with pictures of your face, a wonderful view
And I don’t mind being alone then
For I make you my haven.