Three Times a Fool

You’re the day, while I’m the night
I’m a plague, you’re bound to fight.
Standing cross ways to your path,
I’m destruction I am wrath.

I pale at thoughts of just only you,
where I lay dead my face the deepest blue.
You find your way home to win again,
while I rot and face my final end.

She’ll be waiting, arms wide open,
my memory forgotten, shattered, broken.
Was I imagined to get through the war?
Am I the love you seek, love you want more.

Take away the fancy parties in your honor,
and what’s left is us, I your one only partner.
Think what you will and do what you must,
but we both know it’s not but lust.

Drive me away, wish me gone,
but I am the birds singing, singing our song.
Forget me never, I know you can not.
For we were side-by-side as you fought.

You won your war with me at your side,
I am your champion, your feeling of pride.
Choose with heart, not with mind.
Please, my darling, don’t leave me behind.

I couldn’t be any more different than he. We’re not compatible as lovers, sometimes not even as friends. But I am night, where he is day, and no matter the war, no matter the battle, I’ll be his champion and I’ll never rain on his parade. But, darling dear, she’s out there and she’s waiting on you just like I’m waiting on him. And she will make you so happy it will blind the people around you when you smile. Unlike when you’re here with me, your smile is dim but lit with a sick hope I can’t bare to witness anymore. But forever, I’ll fight along side you. Forever, I’ll ride into the throws of battle with you. And forever, we will come out victorious. Because it’s me and it’s you, and there aren’t any two better warriors out there that could fight the way we do.

You’ll always be my champion, I’ll always be at your flank, ready to protect.

I am anxious,
I do wait.
I am patient,
with burdened weight.
I take your word,
with little relief.
That maybe one day,
You’ll take away my grief.
I am bound,
and I do fight.
To overcome reaction,
to just take flight.
I have this fever,
A stretching pain.
I lay still as you hurt me,
I watch at the pleasure you gain.
I hold this fear,
I grip it tight.
I pray that one day,
I will overcome this might.

This puts my life and situation into a sequence of pleasant rhymes. And one of my more favorite works.

Three times the fool;
here I am.
Master to my puppet,
Center piece to a plan.

Obey, act;
Do so as told.
Never reject,
For sins are too bold.

Shake away my humanity,
Drain me dry.
Cut my strings, Master,
So that I may die.

“Him, different verse.
Me, I am a silent curse.
I’ll love as far as I can stretch.
Inside I feel like such a wretch.
I follow my lead as far as I can,
He trails behind as if he’s ‘man’.
I ask, when will this end?
Tell me when you see my best friend.”

I am truly a terrible person. This isn’t some self-loathing bs, it is the God honest truth. I’ve done terrible things, I’ve told terrible lies, and at the time I didn’t regret such things. But I do now. My heart and conscious is back with a vengeance. The one person who deserves the best of treatment got the worst. I still lie, I still hide. I doubt that I will ever be able to show who I really I am to them. I hope I can some day, but for now, I settle for this. And force them to settle for what little I can give. I am a terrible person for this, and I only hope that one day, they will forgive me for my selfishness.

I am selfish, and I am lost. I’m in this forest where the foliage is so thick the path is hidden and I’m slowly trudging my way through to make my own way. It’s taking me so long, and I’m getting so weary. There’s no one with me, not “the one”. Where that person is, I don’t know. And this makes the path longer in the distance. Is this punishment? I ask myself this same question all the time. I’m almost sure it is a punishment, waiting for them. But it’s worth the wait, and worth the blisters on my feet from this journey I’m on. When it ends, I’ll be home. With them. And every path I’m on after then will be with them, and it won’t matter how thick the foliage is, because I’ll have another set of hands to push back the branches from my face. And for this, I trudge on.

For those of you who are so very lucky to be with the one you want to swing life away with… Here’s to you, darlings.

“Like the crave in your throat
the lust in your veins
this miracle you call life
is all little games

Gentle thorns ease the worry
velvet tears spill like wine
taming such as the beast
is slowly breaking your spine

Play your songs till dusk
dance along till sunrise
never stop for breathe
or another partner dies

Your cheek pressed to hers
two hearts beating as one
tangled in a slow beat
yet the worlds just begun

Young as the soil
old as the large oak
troubles have no meaning
life as of now is a joke

Time stops standing still
the pace picks up beat
time trickles faster
you’re almost at defeat

Her beauty is fading
silk slipping from bone
you stand on the dance floor
you’re entirely alone

Have you tamed the beast,
forced time in chains?
No, my dear boy,
All is for not, all is in vain.” - Written by yours truly

I know more about cravings than I would have ever liked, but it is my hand of cards and I’ll take what I’ve been dealt. My beast in this situation, not quite tamed. But not so beastly where I can’t handle its fierce bite. But I’m becoming much too literal! How silly. I feel I’ve become too much of a “life or death” kinda girl. It’s inconvenient. But things take a turn for the worst so quickly sometimes, I have only seconds to get a firm stand and grip on the here and now. If I’m too slow, only once, I get caught up in the wave of life and can’t seem to keep my head above water. I keep wishing for something that is unattainable for me at the here and now. I see it clearly in my minds eye, every move, every word, whisper, touch, glance… I can see it, and I can feel it. And the longer it’s away from me, the faster it feels to be slipping out of my fingers. So there I am, alone with my thoughts. Which for me, and I’m sure for many, is just the absolute pits. Your worst enemy is yourself, and you can see every kink in your armor and every crack on the surface all the way down to the tears in your soul. Who better to make you feel so much more terrible than yours truly! Oh joy! And now I’m thinking, what do I really have to stake claim over? What is there that is truly all mine, only mine, mine, mine, mine. And I’m grasping at straws here, guys, really. I don’t have much to account for, besides my dazzling good looks and irresistible charm but those are a given. These three years, I have tamed nothing. The chains have been forced upon me, and they’re itching tight around the throat. How much more time do I have to endure before I get what I crave so desperately it crushes me to think of. What other obstacles must I face and overcome? And I will do all of this. I will stand up and I will defeat that son of a bitch, the beast. Because what else can I do besides wait? While I wait, I might as well better myself and become more for what I’m waiting for. Because when it comes, it will need all of me. Not a broken girl with a broken back. No, I will not be that girl.

Selfish I, Beautiful She

One of my many works, I find delight and peace in writing. I accept and respect all feed back and will take and critique with gratitude. I hope this will bring some sort of joy in reading this, because I found joy in creating it.

“She asked me, “When?”
Yet I had no response.
For this one simple question,
I was at a loss.

Together we stood,
our backs facing the wind.
Where we first started,
where we will end.

I grasped at the words,
only words and lines.
Her simple request,
no answer I could find.

All that was given,
I have never deserved.
All that was taken,
I had never once earned.

We lived and I lied,
gained truth without fear.
Reaching and grasping,
always keeping her near.

Selfish I,
beautiful she.
Angry deceit,
So I set her free.”

There’s this place where I visit where no one knows me as Lucinda. When I’m here, I’m alone. I’m known, but so unknown at the same time it’s as if I’m an island yet to be discovered. I’m known for many things, but none of them good. I’m not sure what my hobbies are anymore.

My friends, far and few, look at me with pity I’m sure. Who is this person, this girl we once knew? Where is she going in life?

Well, I’ll make it simple. No where. At least for right now, I am alone with a shadow of hope following over my shoulder barely keeping the color draining out of me.

Accepting failure isn’t hard. It’s simple and easy, and once I came to accept failure, a huge weight was lifted off upon my shoulders.

But simple living can’t go on forever. It’s becoming dismal, and the light at the end of the tunnel is growing dimmer with each passing day. I have no one to wrap their arms around me when I grow cold and need the extra warmth. I have no one to encourage me with sweet words. I grow lonely and tired, and day by day my light fades; and that shadow over my shoulder that keeps me reaching out for brighter and greater shades of life is slipping away quietly without even any notice from me.

Lonely Hands

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring’d with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls. - Alfred, Lord Tennyson “The Eagle”

Lonely hands, looking for another pair to grasp on to before I succumb to this feeling of tumbling backwards into an unknown place where faces are hidden just as the intentions and the emotions are shaded by curtains of lace as to only catch the slightest glimpse before ripped away in a panic.

Panic. Humans, we panic and contain our fear in a jar deep inside of our chest until we reach that breaking point where the panic becomes too intense, too scolding hot for us to bare. At that breaking point, we release that fear in an insane fury that nothing, no one can contain. We fear for our loved ones, ourselves, animals, jobs, homes, food, jewelry…etc., But what is our greatest fear?

My greatest fear… That last finger grip I have got remaining on that ledge… I fear that once that finger slips, I come tumbling down along with it into the deepest and blackest abyss I could imagine. In this abyss, (let’s call myself “Lucinda”), Lucinda is surrounded by everything she’s done wrong. Stolen, pawned, lied, cursed, tricked and schemed to get whatever it is that she wants… Lucinda is trapped in a dark world where she relives her wrong doings, worst of all, every time she hurt her family. Lucinda is surrounded by the disgusted glares her family gives her because they all know that with what she stole, she used to go and get herself drugs to get high only to forget those very looks given to her by those very same family members. Lucinda herself is a never-ending-story.

Where will this end? When will Lucinda finally lose her grip on everything she loves? Lucinda is trying, trying so desperately hard to recover the remains of her past life. But time is ticking, and her hands grow weary. It’s only a matter of time. And I, Lucinda, know that I won’t have much longer.

(Source: staypozitive, via obscureexistence)