I wish I knew how to damage you in the most intimate, soul-wrenching way. Ruining you so perversely, you can't recover. Hurt you beyond taking away what you enjoy, but destroy your ability to enjoy. Have the access to your happiness locked up in my charms. Its terrible to want this much. The prospect soothes and warms me as strong whiskey does on bitter, dry nights. Gathering rights after years. I'm sure I'm hitting some demented limit where knowing an argument is the best way to trigger a passionate response from you, how can I favor this type of interaction from you above nothing, the drama of raised voices and curses.
I hate how so many want, like, and admire you. It disgusts me. I gag on the time and mental ease they take from you. Watching you, the glance stolen of you, the way you carry it all, how do you manage it? Some nights yearning to have you as no one else has or will. Those nights end in half-digested hatred for you, the spell bound luminosity you glow. Wishing to know the intricacies of that mind of scattered presence, turning you into a unique construction from boundless focus and un-focus. Crying for a facet of you open to be infected more so than the way you've affected my system. Without the possibility, I begin to wish to be able to un-cuff myself from you, your charismatic allure, the temptation of you. And the fool I am fails! There should be a fault so great in you causing the fall from the pedestal you automatically reside on. Even though you will live in a luxurious house from the window of the intimidating cliff in everyone's mind, I want you broken in the gutter, food for nothing, easily cut by a slight feather as everyone else is! My illogical mind unable to find your fatal heroic flaw.
The sad truth: in a couple of weeks, I'll be in this state again over another boy. An endless cycle of the forlorn, lovelorn, forsaken, in love with passion. Each occurrence a shade of the last, a revival of lust, a continuation of a mythical man that doesn't exist. Thus, I'm doomed to build someone up beyond compare time after failure, disillusioned and falling for another mirage.
-11/22/09, Austin
I hate how so many want, like, and admire you. It disgusts me. I gag on the time and mental ease they take from you. Watching you, the glance stolen of you, the way you carry it all, how do you manage it? Some nights yearning to have you as no one else has or will. Those nights end in half-digested hatred for you, the spell bound luminosity you glow. Wishing to know the intricacies of that mind of scattered presence, turning you into a unique construction from boundless focus and un-focus. Crying for a facet of you open to be infected more so than the way you've affected my system. Without the possibility, I begin to wish to be able to un-cuff myself from you, your charismatic allure, the temptation of you. And the fool I am fails! There should be a fault so great in you causing the fall from the pedestal you automatically reside on. Even though you will live in a luxurious house from the window of the intimidating cliff in everyone's mind, I want you broken in the gutter, food for nothing, easily cut by a slight feather as everyone else is! My illogical mind unable to find your fatal heroic flaw.
The sad truth: in a couple of weeks, I'll be in this state again over another boy. An endless cycle of the forlorn, lovelorn, forsaken, in love with passion. Each occurrence a shade of the last, a revival of lust, a continuation of a mythical man that doesn't exist. Thus, I'm doomed to build someone up beyond compare time after failure, disillusioned and falling for another mirage.
-11/22/09, Austin
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