hi, again.

hi, again.
i was just wondering
if you could let me know
what it is i'm fighting for?
i'm dying to know,
and at this rate,
i might die before i ever really begin
the fight.

I hate the game.
The game of pretending not to care when you really, really do. Why is it that we feel compelled to hide the truth. We are so utterly terrified of the truth, of exposure, of vulnerability. Instead we pretend we are impenetrable, we hide ourselves behind hobbies and the things we like and we deny that anyone may have broken down a wall, or touched us in any way, because that means they have gained the power to hurt us. I am terrified that if I let you know, I might lose the slimmest chance I've got. But is passively watching that light of hope flicker and burn out much better? No. Really, it's torture. I want you to know that I care, just not how much. But I don't want to lose the game. But I don't even want to play the game. I'm arguing with myself. I wish I could get out of my own head. I wish I could break out of this prison.
If I do this now, I'll regret it later. But If I don't do anything now, I'll regret it later. I don't know I don't know I don't know.
I tried to suppress your presence in my conscience. Instead you appeared in my dreams. A shadow of you, or who I thought you to be. Last night you told me what it was that drove you off. You said it was because there were too many superiority issues. Everything done was done to impress, and you didn't want that. I don't know where it came from, this wasn't a thought of mine (I don't think, but of course, I could be wrong). I don't want to give it any heed at all. Half of me wants to forget that you ever happened. And the other half wishes it wasn't over. Where is the middle ground?

I guess I really am a hopeless dreamer

I had a dream about you the other night. It was just like it was before, and then you left. I woke up, but fell back asleep in the hopes that you would reenter my dream. I kept dreaming and dreaming, but you never came back.

I feel like such a failure.
School.
Work.
Relationships.
Anything.
Why can't I fucking engage?
Why am I so apathetic?
Why do I do this to myself, and why can't I stop?
How can I fix it?

Is it too much to ask?

Please, I just want a bit of fucking honesty.

Less About Control (inspired by Sherin)

I stumbled upon a firefly
the brightest I have ever seen;
through the barricades of darkness
his shining radiance broke.
For a while
this firefly kept me company
ignited me with his light
and made me see beauty
through his outward glow.
I wish you could count
on a firefly to stay,
but one never can.
If you contain a firefly
in a jar,
the light that once shone so bright
will only diminish.
I won't be responsible
for extinguishing the glimmer,
I'd rather nurture it
into a flame that spreads
until the whole world is lit,
ablaze with mystery
and enraptured by beauty.
My best friend sings,
'What I know is that life
is less about control
than it is
about love',
and the song repeats in my head
and resonates in my heart.
So I will let
the firefly wander his course
and pray that it leads back to me.
In the meantime if he has work to do,
others to set aglow
and bring hope to;
I'm grateful for this gift.
I have a light of my own to work on,
but just in case
I will keep a candle in the window
for him.