THE CLOSET MYSTIC

both of you had

this distant look in your eye 

like you needed danger

just to feel alive

an entire life 

playing it safe

take my hand, 

our great escape 

i don’t know if it’s love

does it matter?

let’s run away

yeah, that’s your life

an endless series of goodbyes.

off to pastures

greener–

it’s never greener.

off to horizons

brighter–

it’s never brighter.

you think

what you are doing

is seeking?

you think

you are soul searching?

you are doing 

everything

to ignore

that coal in your belly

to ignore

the past’s anchor 

you hold onto your hurt

a vest of Kevlar 

you cloak yourself

in scar tissue 

a blanket for your heart 

yea, you put out the flame.

so much safety in freezing.

you know,

freezing to death–

it burns for a little, yeah,

but then you just go numb. 

yeah, then you don’t have to feel

a damn thing.

so easy to go cold.

so much better

than being set ablaze

then i finally understood

both of you had this distant look

like you both needed something dangerous

just to feel something

better to hurt

than to not feel anything at all,

right?

..

but i know that look. it will never be enough. do you search? or do you run from your own shadow? would you rather bask in someone else’s darkness, someone else’s shadow, just so that yours blends in, is swallowed whole?

Your face, my chest. Your eyes closed, inhaling like I’m the final thing you’ll ever smell. Pretending you’re asleep, knowing you’re savoring this moment. Is it pathetic that I still imagine your face?

Why do I yearn so intensely for love? I feel as if this is the sole desire I have, every other desire I’ve ever experienced has been secondary, or a means to the end of that higher and truer desire, the desire to love. I want to see the love swelling in someone’s eyes, I want your face to light up when I walk in the room; instead, I feel cast into shadow. Can someone’s hand reach in here, pull me out?