Yearning

I miss you. 
The real you. 
And I'll let you know, in case you didn't know this, that's all I feel toward you: yearning. 
Not the kind of yearning that I want to hold you in my arms and kiss you... to marry you and have your children... 
I just miss the real you. Or... I don't know you enough to say if it's real or not. It just felt real to me. 
But anyways, I miss the one, who wanted to talk to me. 
The one I couldn't stop laughing with at 4 o'clock in the morning. 
The one who told me we could talk about anything 
and the one that I actually talked about everything, 
even if there was so much I didn't get a chance to tell you. 
I miss the stories and the jokes you told me and made me giggle. 
I miss the promises we made, but didn't keep. 
I just miss having you as my friend. 
If I could turn back time, I would.
I would live again all the conversation, 
all the moments, 
all the feelings, 
every second of it. 
I don't know if I could say goodbye to all of it then, 
after hearing 
and living 
and feeling it all over again. 
But I loved it so much, that it's worth getting my heartbroken all over again. 
-et-

Exhaustion

I am here

in a place that doesn't feel like anything. 

The only thing I feel is the emptiness inside of me,

growing,

expanding,

emptier I become,

tears spill out of the emotionless eyes I hold on my face,

emotionless and tired of the games of life that you, God, throw in my way. 

Out there

somewhere,

the crows laugh at me and tell me to stop the childish acts

and the tantrums I pull

and the screams I suffocate. 

Like them,

so am I.

Black and soulless

covered with marks of me.

Them like me,

I am ready to fly.

God, you hear me, I am ready to feel the wind, but instead,

You let me fall. 

The fall keeps on living. 

God I miss the end it used to have.
Where's the ruthless concrete to face with anticipation and joy?
Where's the bottomless ocean to drown in?
The endless, shoreless, watery grave 

to hold me in its arms 

and let me breathe the same air

the air as tasty as lollipops,

as bitter as poison, salty and sugary,

lemon and alcohol 

to mix with the blood in my veins

 still running out of time. 

Yes

I feel worse than dead,

but dead I wished to be

but God you won this round,

now lets quit this game 

and let me find my sandman with the hood and all

he could take me away. 

God take the rest of my time,

I don't need it anymore,

all my sandcastles are built now

and ready to crumble down, 

and I know that you wished to step on them anyways. 

Hourglass still filled,

take it away, 

don't waste more of it on me,

give it a purpose with a child fighting a battle he deserves to win. 

I don't feel the hit that usually rolls around right about now.

I don't feel it waiting for me to get back on my feet

just to hit me back down. 

I don't feel the punch that lost me my air,

the only friend of mine. 

Soul

I feel, 

only if I have one,

is black with the wait,

darker than night sky without the stars,

just like I am without anything to waste my sand on.

Darker than the hood of the man I now wait to appear on my doorstep,

God tell him to hurry,

God tell him to run, because

the crows are getting too loud. 

I feel like I don't exist anymore.

Putting black on white makes the waterfall disappear,

the warmth to cool down. 

Salty and sugary turns out to be filled with the sand the man now sprinkles in my eyes,

the emotionless,

tired eyes,

and I keep on falling.

God, I am tired of this game,

but maybe I don't feel like quitting on it just yet, 

just give me a chance to win a little for once, 

then lets see who wins this bet. 

-et-