Product of whim on 750Words.com today

(the breakdown)

Spinning round in my head
I don't know what to do
what to do without you, love

I need you here with me--
to dream unlonely dreams
to sleep unsleepless nights
to hold when my world's about to collapse.

Oh, "if you only knew! I'd sacrifice my beating heart before I lose you."
I'd lay it on the floor for you to do whatever you decide.
I'd give it all -- anything you ask of me.

My heart leads me and it leads me only to you.
It beats only along with every breath you take.

Darling, if you only knew.



All the times I regret, all the times I cherish, I can't forget a single one of them -- they're burned into my memory like an unbridled flame. You are my everything, you are my anything. You make me a better person, you inspire me and give me hope. I love you, boy. I love you so very much. So much that it hurts every damn day I wake, having spent another night dreaming of you.

Is it not sad, that even now I find myself longing to hear your voice still?
Is it not sad, that even now I find myself seeing your face whenever I close my eyes?

It's funny how the words just come to mind so easily, how the letters flow out of the pen or the keys under my fingers nearly press themselves -- as if the goddess Erato herself sat in the back of my mind, plucking the strings of her lyre with such purpose that all around her inspiration bloomed.

It's funny how you turn my poetry
into prose and rearrange the letters
back again--how you cause lyrics to spring
to my lips with simply your existence.

Did you know you are my inspiration?
Effortlessly, you still light up my life.

The memory of you even sweeter
than the scent of the flowers you held out --
with a sincere smile on your gentle face --
just for me on that July afternoon.

(I will love you forever,my darling)

When roses stopped appearing with you, dear,
I did not mind-- they are temporary.

But when was it I stopped being special?
I can't remember the look in your eyes
and the soliloquies you had in them
every morning you woke smiling at me.

I don't know when the television screen
became more worthy of your interest,
I don't know when I became a burden
or why it was you'd turn away from me.

It hurts to know that I can bear my heart
to you and you just yawn and turn the page,
Or how quickly I lost value to you.

It hurts to think and it hurts to breathe and it hurts to hold my head up in the dark all by myself.
It hurts to remember and it hurts to be ignored and it hurts to hear every song I've ever heard with you.

I don't know; what do you think?
Is it sadder to see your face whenever I close my(brown)eyes,
or that I can no longer remember the last time I saw it smiling?

Is it more pathetic that I tremble on my own before I fall asleep at night
or that I wake in the morning and look for you?

I don't know and I don't know that I can keep caring.
I can't stand this and I don't know that I ever could.

Why couldn't this sadness go away when you did?
Why couldn't this pain stay as far away as you are?
(--and how long have you been there?
Far longer than I could -- could've -- could ever possibly
imagine.)

I'm slipping, sinking, suffocating.
To breathe feels like inhaling the thick mud enveloping me,
dragging me down deeper, deeper.

But I suppose that's just what happens when you cry with eyes like the dirt.