ThymeandAgain

I love That you love Me Even when I Don't love Me

There's a peace, this side of obscene, That you don't see until you've been On the brink of all sorts of crazy, Ill-advised feeling; A kind of catharsis without The pleasure of knowing what about What just happened made you Just that numb. A self assurance that no one can Make you feel worse, no, no one can Because you've been there, And come back a wreck; A self-accepting blunder, The kind that make people wonder Just where along the line You had snapped. Your head swims, floats, screams, Until it enters your bloodstream And you're infected, inside, Outside. All over. Sick with that sense of comfort That soothes what had

Does there exist, in this place of ours, A place where the strong can be weak, Without fear of reproach? A respite in the war for our souls, Between anger and bitterness, Love and madness, Truth and... Nothing?

There's a curve to my hips, and the line of my lips, that you know exists just to make you miss me. And the look of my eyes, The way my fingers rise, They make you realize that you need me And every inch of skin, Without or within, Is content in being there just to make you smile And those dark eyes that follow, Your pale lips that swallow, The words you know you can't dare to say They're my greatest desire Every time you go, you know that I will wait here Every part of me that is there only for you And every breathy sigh, or cry that I deny I'll bottle them until you listen, because - You know there is no end No reason to

Sweaty death cannot end, for I must move things once again. Left to right, up and down, from here to fucking China Town - Damn you, oh closet, and damn your dust mites, damn boxes and shoes and lights, oh so bright. To hell with your cleaning, I'm more than just through - If I have to clean more, I don't know what I'll do! Smack babies, punch junk, or even stab grannies Go and kick puppy dogs right in their fannies! I'll die, I tell you - I'll simply not last, And all of my rage is now dying fast... And so I shall move them, each bag, box, and wire, And do oh so much more than was supposedly required - But you see, in the end, the

An old obsession finally come to light, I found the nerve to ask him to give me an audience. It was a not-so-extraordinary balmy evening in the suburbs of London, when the date of our meeting came to pass. At the appointed time, there was the rumble of an engine outside, as he parked in the driveway and headed up the long walkway. There will always be something that strikes me about him. From head to toe, he exudes confidence. Knowing him as I do, I often wonder at the source of this self assured stature; he often has much to doubt himself about. He is of average height now – which was something quite different in the time that he was

These willful walls that you've created, Which keep us now so separated; What more is left for me to do, To bridge the gap of me and you?

What's there left to find, Among the ashes and shredded pages that twister about? Relics of a fallen age; Remnants of a revere, Of a time when purpose swallowed Doubt, and Fear, And all of my negligent affections. There are nothing but eyes, Horror filled and massive, Left in the distorted elegance That was once greeted me In the silver-shimmer looking glass. Nothing but eyes that document Long lost ambitions, As they tumble down the well, to join dreams, long dead, now Rotting.