Your eyes are deceiving,
craving a reaction to spark a contraction
an infatuation with being wanted but wanting not,
raiding the feelings established to fall no more
crumbling them into manipulation,
a mere deception of who you really want to give in to temptation
it’s you again, you again
just you, more you, and no “I”
Who is this ‘we’? Who am I?
Energy, it’s such a deadly force. It is because it cannot be created or destroyed that it sticks like the plague.
A connection is so hard to trust, to experience, to acknowledge. When you know the end will come before the beggining, it all feels like a dream, a fantasy.
He is patient and kind. He is passionate, compassionate, and emotive. He seeks truth in exchange for conviction, he argues for decency and respect. He stands by honesty and doesn’t lie.
The truth is all that they haven’t taken from him, so he fights for it
He understands what it is like to struggle, he lives it, breathes it.
He wakes up every morning to the sound of footsteps that press the canvas he sleeps on.
He looks down when the power of those above us beats down our tolerance. When we both asphyxiate from the bullshit of bureaucratic dominance. But I see his heart above his head, beating in resistance when his arms can’t hold up any longer.
He met me at a weird time in my life and I completely missed him. I didn’t notice. And now that I have, it ended before starting. Timing and distance, like all tragic heartbreak.
At the same time, this is nothing. It wasn’t created to be more than shared energy. Good energy. And while I’ll miss the feeling, I’m leaving it all behind me.
This is the end. Who is this ‘we’? who am I?