Your single mother and cousins applauded you because they had faith I was the one.
It felt amazing to be this close to a family that I never met in the flesh.
Seeing them in the form of a discarded diary should have sounded an alarm in my head.
Your voice was so solemn and so soothing that it was like tasting a honeysuckle lollipop.
It was the best flavor I’ve ever had until I told you about the pauper I am providing for.
Then the flies showed up and I spent the next two months swatting them away.
One day, I licked the lollipop for the first time since then and tasted manure in the center.
I wondered why something so sweet could taste so repulsive.
But to my surprise, I was struck by the thought that I should have known.
You found yourself a guy you couldn’t wrap around your finger.
I didn’t see it until I was being bled dry and I could barely stay awake.
I had nothing to offer you when you claimed I did.
So why were you angry?
Why were you cranky?
I thought you were dandy
When you abstained from hanky panky.
All this time, you were still the hurt little boy that was raised in the Pope’s lyceum.
And turned into a lamprey the second I couldn’t give him anything to eat.
If you’re alone and free, I’ve already forgotten about you.
If you deserve better than me, you took the easy way out
By cheating on your test in life and got caught by the pauper.
You whimpered in fear of getting expelled and I was prepared for it.
The lamprey within broke free when I couldn’t look at you as the same person I loved before.
You fruitlessly faked your regret and pinned the blame on my ass to get out of jail free.
I’m not crying not because I didn’t care about you.
It was because I have the ending from that film memorized by heart.
It’s crazy, isn’t it? I know. I’ve watched it several times in French as a student.
I know my worth. I’m smiling in public while the sun is up
And brightening up the night when it goes down.
Thank you for putting words in my mouth when you were at your lowest.
Can you remind me again what major you’re pursuing?
Because you behaved like a patient in a case study at Arkham to me.
Wake up and smell the roses, my sweet summer child.
If you can’t stand to be where the bald eagles take flight,
Then park yourself on a bench and feed the pigeons.
One day it dawned upon him,
with an almost rude suddenness,
that his reality is his own and his own only.
Ignited within him, a passion arose.
He desired most to explore,
so that he may experience
reality from a vast multitude
of perspectives on the world.
Perhaps, he thought,
this was the basis for curiosity.
Then, he wondered if language, art,
and literature were the attempts
to bridge the gap between realities.
After all, what else could communicate
the complex thoughts formulated
within each of those minds?
Yet, another thought occurred.
Perhaps this, realized loneliness,
was the foundation for love.
For don't we seek to find
the one who sees
reality in a similar light?
And then, a staggering epiphany,
gripped his consciousness.
Could this, isolation of the mind,
not be the meaning of life?
He decided, in that single shocking moment,
that the utter beauty of the world,
with its mammoth array of microcosms,
and the fantastic complexity of the universe,
was too precious not to be witnessed
by an intelligent being, like himself.
Even, if he was alone in the experience.
Now listen to what I have to say
For the wicked hide in the shadows of this day
You know nothing of what is of me
You may know the color of my eyes
But not of what they are capable to see
Now here, I've warned this upon you
For not every smile is ever true
Everything is not set in stone
You may say there is an answer
When nothing is completely known
Close your eyes, please understand
That what you may rely on is a blood-thirsty hand
Unknown of what they truly are
Watch think before you turn and talk
Someone so close to you can be so far
So remember before you go on and say
"But why would anyone do this to me anyway?"
Human nature can be full of evil and greed
Unwatched, A monster born within the shadows, full only of self pleasure and need.
Untouchable
Unknowable
Intangible
Deeper darkness lurking in the twilight,
Murky depths, rejected by the sunlight.
Monsters creeping in the dark,
Gleaming eyes filled with savagery,
Mouths filled with glistening teeth.
I have walked amongst apparitions.
I have faced demons and gods.
No foe or ally is greater than myself.
The split, the divide, is as
Different as day and night,
Greater than the space
Between the darkest point of the ocean
And the stars. We exist
Between the realms.
Aware of both, grasping one,
Fearing the other,
When nothing truly exists.
For what is the self other than
A collection of thoughts,
Of ideas, a ghost?
A vacant space fills our imaginations
with goals to make the best of creations.
Work is to be done, and goals are to be achieved,
and a blockade of will is hoped to be relieved.
Imagination is a bridge, and your goals are lost,
for in front of you is a bridge that you long to cross,
but the mist is slick, you must proceed slow.
If you don't, the void of dullness lie below.
You take a slow step with misty stone at your feet
that quickly turns to snow, a foe difficult to beat.
Your walk turns to a crawl, and your pace is slow.
You begin to question what you really know.
Snow freezes to ice in front of your eyes.
Across the bridge are eternal blank cries.
You cannot wait any more, you must rise and fight
against the blizzard, the ice, what you need inside.
You grasp onto the stone, onto your destiny,
and you slowly rise to your frost-burnt feet.
Your crawl to a walk, then into a run.
If you make it now, your dreams are sure to come.
You progress with confidence, and you're heeding the call.
The only danger possible is that you might fall.
But that is impossible, you've gone too far,
until you realize who you really are.
You stumble and slip, and you smash into the ice.
Your only goal was to make it to new heights,
but you're too worthless; your dreams are left untouched.
Lost are the goals to which you've so hopefully clutched.
Is this a nightmare? This is not in your sleep.
It's reality's awakening to why you must weep.
You never had a chance; you couldn't ever make it,
so you were forced to break down and to forfeit.
In the progress of your life, you'll see what you've become.
You will see that it's imagination where dreams come from.
because they're not a reality, and they'll never be true,
so you need to discover what reality means to you.
I finally discovered
What it is I truly desire
The one thing that makes
Your heart set a fire
That one thing, in its finest form,
Is true, pure, matchless, real,
Eager, hungry, matchless, real,
Eager, hungry, ecstatic, and fantastic
It is love; for the heart it is a meal
~Chrystal
Written on
October 19, 2000