The Gamble
What is love? Chemically, it's dependence, an addiction, and the absence starts withdrawals. It seems almost benign. And you can't love someone that doesn't love you back; but you delude yourself. You can hold up a mask & say that you love it, you can hear it talk & say that it loves you too, the religious aspect of love rises out of that song & you close your eyes and say, I believe.
Then, you live in a world without a god.
It's harsh because the emptiness & vastness & the void of space surrounds you. Now, you feel the world spinning slowly & can feel the fluctuation of natural but awful things happening. Awful because you know suffering & immediately empathize with every broken heart. Natural because you knew it was always possible. You knew it was possible and stuck your face into the unknown air anyway.
You thought you knew what love was & sang those words into the darkness....and you didn't even hear an echo.
That's the risk, that's the gamble.
Love, it became a tree stump to hold in a hurricane. There are limits to strength, so I had to let go of my pride, my dignity, even the bit of love I had for myself. I couldn't hold it all. I let it all go for love. At least I had that, my arms and legs wrapped around it, my face dug into the trunk, singing in a whimpering whisper, I love you. As if it were some spell I could repeat & the storm would end & I could pick up the things I'd let go of & be complete, so complete I could yell from any spot I stood on, I could sing for everything to hear.
It was wishful thinking. It was prayer. It was disconnecting from reality & getting stuck in a loop of good memories. I remembered when you loved me. I knew what it felt like, the smell of it, the atmosphere of a new world where I could simply find a hair of yours on my shirt and feel bliss.
I grew up in madness and only sought peace and understanding, thinking one would give me the other. I let go of everything to find a bottom. It was peaceful, but it was lonely. It was lonely for a long time. I grew to accept it, to accept myself and my thinking and that it was probably best to impact as few lives as possible. I was in a spacious meadow all by myself. I had a sort of peace and understanding.
Sure, I didn't sleep, but I don't sleep now. I see spots, have chest pains, throw up. I scream when I can and deal with the sore throat. I can feel the sore muscles in my face from crying & forcing that away. Yes, I wanted the storm to end, but not because I was flung into space. I don't have to hold on the love like some last resort, I don't grasp blindly around me, looking for hope and trust and understanding and a hand grasping for me because it loved me too. Because it belonged to someone who loved me. I don't have any love to hold onto.
I'm so exhausted. Spent. Used up. A balloon that popped in space.
Truth is space & an atmosphere.
Then, you live in a world without a god.
It's harsh because the emptiness & vastness & the void of space surrounds you. Now, you feel the world spinning slowly & can feel the fluctuation of natural but awful things happening. Awful because you know suffering & immediately empathize with every broken heart. Natural because you knew it was always possible. You knew it was possible and stuck your face into the unknown air anyway.
You thought you knew what love was & sang those words into the darkness....and you didn't even hear an echo.
That's the risk, that's the gamble.
Love, it became a tree stump to hold in a hurricane. There are limits to strength, so I had to let go of my pride, my dignity, even the bit of love I had for myself. I couldn't hold it all. I let it all go for love. At least I had that, my arms and legs wrapped around it, my face dug into the trunk, singing in a whimpering whisper, I love you. As if it were some spell I could repeat & the storm would end & I could pick up the things I'd let go of & be complete, so complete I could yell from any spot I stood on, I could sing for everything to hear.
It was wishful thinking. It was prayer. It was disconnecting from reality & getting stuck in a loop of good memories. I remembered when you loved me. I knew what it felt like, the smell of it, the atmosphere of a new world where I could simply find a hair of yours on my shirt and feel bliss.
I grew up in madness and only sought peace and understanding, thinking one would give me the other. I let go of everything to find a bottom. It was peaceful, but it was lonely. It was lonely for a long time. I grew to accept it, to accept myself and my thinking and that it was probably best to impact as few lives as possible. I was in a spacious meadow all by myself. I had a sort of peace and understanding.
Sure, I didn't sleep, but I don't sleep now. I see spots, have chest pains, throw up. I scream when I can and deal with the sore throat. I can feel the sore muscles in my face from crying & forcing that away. Yes, I wanted the storm to end, but not because I was flung into space. I don't have to hold on the love like some last resort, I don't grasp blindly around me, looking for hope and trust and understanding and a hand grasping for me because it loved me too. Because it belonged to someone who loved me. I don't have any love to hold onto.
I'm so exhausted. Spent. Used up. A balloon that popped in space.
Truth is space & an atmosphere.