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all these blank sheets of paper
Folder:
one won't stop asking me favors
"please, share your intimacies
we wish to hear your desires and passions
you always deliver in such an elegant fashion!"
i find this frightening but quite flattering
can't imagine what they could be gathering
do you feel enlightened?
is your level of knowledge heightened
in numerous fields?
do i build
your esteem?
even though it may seem
as if i weren't weakening
your ability to think rationally,
i am.
BOX MY EARS! BOX MY EARS!
all these asinine lines will gear
both of us toward poor ideals
and who cares how nice it might feel?
there must be something more real
than caring for you only for loving me.
I'm swiftly approaching a decade since having wrote this
and I must say:
I have found that there is definitely something more real than caring for someone only because they, in turn, care for you.
Everyone faulters. Love is unconditional -- but to be bond to someone via the unspoken contract of the relationship between you -- it certainly has its stipulations if that love is to remain. Matured love is a camp fire -- it can wane and eventually smolder into scarlette embers if not kindled periodically. It cannot go unchecked. As for young love, unfortunately -- kindling is not necessary. It burns bright and goes out relatively quickly, but only after branching out into a full scale wildfire. It seems to only extinguish after the last tree in the forest is charred and consumed (or if acted upon by an outside force of firefighters with pressurized water hoses). Though, like many species of tree, regular wildfires are inevitable and necessary for new seedlings. I shall not extent this metaphor any futher.
Good night and good luck.
gently luring and conjuring such vivid images, lovely and forelorn at the same time