day two-hundred six: am i alive?

i'm conscious
i'm breathing
my heart bleeds
lungs receiving
all works in tempo
all works the same
a broken heart
means i'm alive.

day one hundred fifty-three: things i'll never be.

these are the things

i'll never be:

i'll never be as bossy 

or controlling as she was

i'll not ever be that petite

i'll never be as quiet as she was

and i'll never stomp on you like she does

but still, even still

i'm not enough.

day one hundred fifty-one: your body is a land of wonder.

"you head won't hit the pillow
without my hand behind it"
and we know now, that's not
how the song goes,
but that's not what matters
there's this thing called magic
and i'm almost a believer
because when i said that word
and you took my words
and made them your own
by repeating them to me
in reverse order
of logical alignment
it made sense
that it would be you
who might finally get it
and there are days that i lose hope,
lose heart
lose strength
but days like that night
make me remember
that words-- yours, mine, hers, his,
are not just words
but whispers of the heart.

day one hundred-nineteen: only the lonely.

isolation

insomnia

the lonely hearts

beat fastest;

insanity

is ianthine

(or so I'm told)

the lonely hearts

beat fastest;

ichongram

left in the sand

the lonely hearts

beat fastest;

footsteps fall

away from it all

the lonely hearts

beat fastest;

sleeping ictus

is the soul

the lonely hearts

beat fastest;

refusing to sleep

ideopraxist

the lonely hearts

beat fastest;

ifsoever ignivomous love

did my soul take over

illaqueate my pulse

my whole being

my heart would simply slow

because you see,

as i've mentioned

only the lonely hearts

beat fastest;

day one hundred-ten: the lover's cry.

"...let him never die..."

oh, how a heart can be torn

twisted, smashed, burned

and still survive,

"...one question haunts and hurts, too much! too much to mention... was i really seeking good or just seeking attention...?"

sometimes the things we wish

for those we hate or those we love

aren't what they need

are only what we want for ourselves

but we're just too afraid to attempt

to change ourselves

"is that all good deeds are when looked at with an ice cold eye?"

so, i'll question my deeds, my actions, my thoughts

i'll look at them from every angle

mix them around, and examine them again

and i'll pray that my good deeds

that my lover's cry

is really what we both need

"somethings i cannot change, but till i try i'll never know, too long i've been afraid of losing love i guess i've lost well, if that's love it comes at much too high a cost!"

so instead of asking you to change

i'll see myself through different eyes

i'll make sure i realize

that i'm really me...

"and if i'm flying solo, at least i'm flying free"

and it's probably best for you,

and, well, for me.