Lonely Factor

Crying he sits there huddled in a heap of tears; only thing reminding him of pacing time and future are the red lines dictating a reference for a time. Clenching his legs harder into his body until it feels like a breakable pressure he hides his face again and cries; yet its not for lost...but for a lost ideal. While he fights the tear he suffers in darkness, while he tells a secret too a one he knows not; yet it strangely lifts his spirit...just the knowledge of shared pain, quirks a smile on his face. What ailment they share is only know to those who embrace it in the dark of night...seeing it as the only feeling the quenchable touch of a cold hand. If it were a name Its name is not known in less gone after and relished upon finding...

Insecurity

Tossing and turning within his nightly slumber his mind races with the anticipation he has built just for a day of, love felt for him. Yet he is strangle un-tamed too this new sensation; his heart telling him one thing, while his brain fails at each pass of a new emotion. What is he supposed to do? Is this normal? As he again jolts out of a restless and much needed sleep he begins too cry, and not tears of love; but tears of pain. What is this sensation meant to be felt as? Is he supposed too know what its plan for him is? Why from all the years of help for others not prepared him for this torture he puts himself through..
Is his happiness truly dependent on this so called sensation of love? Does he really need this new emotion? In this truly desperate time why can't his white horse of salvation come and make this mud clear....As his tear stains his face and sheets he looks out of his window and with a hardened resolve he whips the tears away...he knows what must be done; he needs his love too be meant and not just lusted. Battling through all the words they speak the next day, he walks him crying himself into a lull of dull feelings. It was done, he broke the heart and person that said they loved him, yet he felt strangely happy. In the end as he finally turns the lights back on and cleans himself up he realizes what love he craves, is not a simple fix. What he is waiting for is the simplistic lover that allows him to feel lonely...but needed; sad,/happy. And not just a filler to pace the time.
Now proudly walking out of his room he bares the mental scares of the war called love. But as he holds his head up high and heads into the world he feels more at rest and calm then he ever has.

Untitled

You hate me? you only hate me, because I dare too be who you cant! As you dull you razors edge on my skin; as you make me bleed for your pain you feel, I still stand proud and strong. While you suffer your own suffering from past taunts, I take your beaten, and become more repulsive...You ask ' How is this possible, I'm better,faster,stronger, and smarter' Its possibly because I've learned your ways..I grew stronger, as I made you believe I was weaker then you; did you think it was that easy? I am a fighter; I may come across as dim witted, and slow, but I'm quick and passionate...I feel your pain less and less, as you inflict more wounds; and dull more razors. But here, take a new one, and start fresh wounds, and learn quick; as it dull faster as I grow thicker skinned...as your hateful words bounce off me, they come back too you; shaking your foundation, and making you see how you hurt yourself. As I finally turn my back on you and close this chapter for good, I leave you with a single thought ' Was all the pain inflicted on me, and you worth the trouble? Where all those hours of verbal abuse enough too make you feel better?'