It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way about anything… and I think I’ve needed this for longer than I care to admit. I thought it was fine that I didn’t feel like I do now but I really just don’t want this to end. For the first time since… before I can remember maybe even longer than that I feel like I have something worth devoting my life to and this sense of purpose feels amazing, exhilarating even….
Now I realize 2 things, first and foremost, as I am close to overstating is that this is better than anything I have ever experienced. Second, sadly you don’t feel the same way… and that hurts. But that’s fine I cannot force you to feel the same emotions that I feel. Furthermore this pain I feel from a love unrequited is significant, it burns in my chest in the most beautiful crimson and at times I fear it will take my life… I feel it could, but the fact that it hasn’t shows it’s benevolent nature.  Yes this benevolent beautiful burning ******* crimson pain born of these feelings I still hold for you. This is life! It may not be pleasant but I can’t say that there is anything better than this. This complex tapestry of emotions… rage sorrow and regret all raise a hand when the role is called and they are very much present… they are presents and they are ******* up every aspect of my Christmas… it’s beautiful how trashed this holiday season has become and with love I will clean up this disaster… regardless of if you are there to see this projects completion…

As the soft lulling lecture went on my eyes began to shift in a hazy closing
And my mind faded into a far off dimension

A dimension of desire
A desire to not be in this room

A room where we dissect psalms
Of rhetoric and metaphor

Calling cities women and lamenting their deterioration
And utter demise

Overstating obvious and neglecting ambiguity

Honesty,
Honestly,
What does it
Mean?

If it means
No lies,
Then I am there
Already.

But if instead it means
All truths,
Then I have a long way
To go.

I want to share,
But I am afraid
Of saying too much,
Overstating the lines
In the sand.

To others I would talk,
But cannot,
For this is secret,
By the order of the 15th
Commandment.

Secret, She said.
I said fine.
No attachment, She said.
I'll try, I said.

No Jelousy
Fine.
No Relationship
Fine.
Just Friends
Fine.
No exclusivity
Fine.

Fine I said,
Again and again.
All was fine,
I said,
But all is not fine.

No attachment?
Too late.
No Jelousy?
I can try, but it will never work.
Just friends?
At least to me,
We are far more
Than that.

Secret,
That I can accept.
As for exclusivity,
I doubt she does this with everyone.

But if all is not fine,
Why do I say
It is?
It is because
I love her
And want to be
With her
Always
[Even when we
Are separated
By Three Thousand
Miles.]

And so any terms
I will accept.
For while the current ones
May be impossible,

They are Nothing,
Nothing at all
Compared to the
Emotional impossibility
Of being near her
But not
With
Her.

Feel I do
Feel like a serial killer at times
Fingers of mine tensing
Carotid arteries of an analogy
Squeezing warmth out of dead bodies
Of psalms into
Saying a prayer
Even though I'm agnostic
In case
And drastically overstating my case
Tasking a metaphor to
Gasping last breath blue
On the edge of a cliff
Just push over
The blood of the simile
Dripping
The flesh
rotting dead on a rock
The dangling dread
circles above
Overhead like
Vultures
I do

Say it...
  without overstating it

Mean it...
  while feeling it more

Live it...
  as a mantra then gifted

Transcend it...
  on wings from before

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2016)

And yet still I write
When I’ve nothing else left
When of last shreds
And shards
Of discarded love
Swept
Up away with the fragmented
Memories
Waning
Bereft years ago
Of my life forces
Draining
In vain have my valiant attempts
To be brave
End in ruin
With few more
Befitting the grave
We tried saving each other
One sinks
And one cries
We tried changing each other
One drinks
And one lies
Or we both fall apart
More in unison
Fading
And yet still I write
The pain
Can’t overstating