the cold of unknowing the known
Perhaps I'm not sure of the answers to your questions, Nik. I'd be the first to admit that not being able to understand one's own actions is frightening and embarrassing.
I've never had a problem like this with anyone else. And why exactly is that? What is it about you that scorns, burns, wraps, loves, warms, holds, bites, tethers, lifts, flies, and sweetens me so?
And what of my apprehensions? Are the stakes so high that I refuse to willingly wrap my arms around you flat-out? Am I too hurt by previous experiences to surrender? Am I looking for something brighter and better?
The stakes are high for me, yes. They are to love and be loved. The odds are always against every single person who puts his or herself out on the line for sunshine and hands to hold. So why don't I loose myself from my own fetters and float?
Am I burned by the way we've both treated eachother in the past? Yes. I realize, though, that we're both -still- young and growing. I can forgive, I can even forget. Not to mention that we've both lived through these hellish experiences and survived ... for this I feel closer to you than I ever have been.
I can't imagine a real, live person more loving and accepting than you. Ever. I've experienced many people who have certainly claimed to have attributes better than yours, they were all wrong though. Logic tells me that you certainly are all I want and need.
So then what? What holds me back?
You've heard me say this three million times with a frown on my face, staring down at my shoes or up at the sky ... but it's true. It's the god's honest truth.
I don't know.
This all being understood resolutely and with conviction, I store it all in some unknown, unmarked file cabinet in the abysmal recesses of my brain.
I put my shoes on, lace them up tight ... wrap myself up in something warm enough to weather the weather and go out. I grasp for anything I can find from anyone willing to give it, I convince myself I'm in love ... and then they hurt me or I grow tired of how unlike you they are.
I've collapsed the quantum fields of a million bridges, even ones left yet uncrossed. I've walked out across the ice in Spring and held my breath while it creaked and cracked all around me. I've deaded the dull roar of that small voice inside me who says, "Come on Kris, let him hold you tonight", and I've hidden all your photos and drawings from plain sight.
I've been dishonest with you, you've lied to me. I've stamped on your feet and watched you cry while I responded with nothing but sighs and the sound of my footsteps away from you. You've told me cruel things. I've told you cruel things.
I've lead you on and on and on while I try my hardest to figure out some equation with all it's signs and factors missing.
You've had other lovers. I've had other lovers.
After and through all of this I've realized that you've always stood outside of the dark bubble I made around myself looking in, pushing your hand through the void of light to touch me and tell me, "Try not to worry so much, Kris." "I've always been listening." "I've always been here."
Yet still ... I don't know.
- K
I've never had a problem like this with anyone else. And why exactly is that? What is it about you that scorns, burns, wraps, loves, warms, holds, bites, tethers, lifts, flies, and sweetens me so?
And what of my apprehensions? Are the stakes so high that I refuse to willingly wrap my arms around you flat-out? Am I too hurt by previous experiences to surrender? Am I looking for something brighter and better?
The stakes are high for me, yes. They are to love and be loved. The odds are always against every single person who puts his or herself out on the line for sunshine and hands to hold. So why don't I loose myself from my own fetters and float?
Am I burned by the way we've both treated eachother in the past? Yes. I realize, though, that we're both -still- young and growing. I can forgive, I can even forget. Not to mention that we've both lived through these hellish experiences and survived ... for this I feel closer to you than I ever have been.
I can't imagine a real, live person more loving and accepting than you. Ever. I've experienced many people who have certainly claimed to have attributes better than yours, they were all wrong though. Logic tells me that you certainly are all I want and need.
So then what? What holds me back?
You've heard me say this three million times with a frown on my face, staring down at my shoes or up at the sky ... but it's true. It's the god's honest truth.
I don't know.
This all being understood resolutely and with conviction, I store it all in some unknown, unmarked file cabinet in the abysmal recesses of my brain.
I put my shoes on, lace them up tight ... wrap myself up in something warm enough to weather the weather and go out. I grasp for anything I can find from anyone willing to give it, I convince myself I'm in love ... and then they hurt me or I grow tired of how unlike you they are.
I've collapsed the quantum fields of a million bridges, even ones left yet uncrossed. I've walked out across the ice in Spring and held my breath while it creaked and cracked all around me. I've deaded the dull roar of that small voice inside me who says, "Come on Kris, let him hold you tonight", and I've hidden all your photos and drawings from plain sight.
I've been dishonest with you, you've lied to me. I've stamped on your feet and watched you cry while I responded with nothing but sighs and the sound of my footsteps away from you. You've told me cruel things. I've told you cruel things.
I've lead you on and on and on while I try my hardest to figure out some equation with all it's signs and factors missing.
You've had other lovers. I've had other lovers.
After and through all of this I've realized that you've always stood outside of the dark bubble I made around myself looking in, pushing your hand through the void of light to touch me and tell me, "Try not to worry so much, Kris." "I've always been listening." "I've always been here."
Yet still ... I don't know.
- K