my proficiency in deficiency
has caused me, unintentionally
to assume my doom
and make no room
for the light in life
so I became consumed...

with worry and fear
and who has left, not stood near
with skin crawling anxiety, falling
apart at the seams,
but hell, I did it without balling...

can't cry, don't know why
but I know the soul of a
"please kill me now", sigh..

the kind that hides
all the tension and rage
for the insanity of this life
feeling stuck, the same page...

over and over and over again
not a question of why,
but a question of when

someone will leave,
and again, I will grieve
my misunderstood passions
and the perpetual ease,
misperceived

as some kind of crazy,
when I'm some kind of "not"
just too open, too honest
too heart touched, framed, for naught.

as in naughty and nasty,
one second, then next..
I am pure-hearted of purpose,
and of others projections, perplexed.

that I am, some kind of freak,
for my sensitive.
and not much worth knowing, then
but "so sweet", my attentiveness

to all the things lacking
all around us, this game,
but it is I, walk alone,
more like bleed, crawl,
In shame.

of the fact that I love,
to the realms of divine.
always writing, to the sky,
"please, a heart throb, be mine"..

but he shows himself, always,
to say goodbye, just the same..

I'm "too much" and not enough
see my eyes, haunt of pain.

the kind of which, lifetimes
not enough, to explain

yet again and again,
do I try, give my all,
bleed, in vain...

so that is why my love song
Is not "be my baby",
It's "use me" and maybe..

If you do, I will, get something else, in my end
Incapable of "guard railing",
broken heart, mind, for the mend

of just be playful, just let it flow,
simple
like the good little boy, I once was
"shirley templed"...

as in adored for my ebullience
and want to please, for the crowd
sing that song of love, hope,
sing it strong, sing it proud

so instead I hide away,
keep my head, hopes, tamped down
for in love, and the light of such
I have a tendency to drown

In ways that confuse and even worse,
then confound
so the back to being alone,
that circle spins, round and round

I would die to be normal
and I would love to be loved.
but in trying so hard to prove myself
I overwhelm, floodgates fucked.

as in open when "awed",
by an other, so rare.
that I can't stop myself, compelled
as if to dream, take the dare.

that maybe, just maybe
of my "feel deep", he'll want it.
mask ripped off, in rapture
nothing false, as in front, it

but let's get to the end,
so you, won't run away, too
I'm a heart
soaked, in the red of romance,
left forever wading,
through a sea of baby blue

that's all I can say,
and please believe me, it's true.

I wrote the book of love,
but it got lost, somewhere
can I find it, safe and trusted, in you?



9 April 2019
ringwald love