What do you look for when you're lost yourself?: A fugue in E-minor

So, so very lost. This life is taking me for yet another unexpected ride down a hill on which it seems the kinetic energy that exists now exceeds the potential we had at the start. And so, in denying the laws of physics, my universe will shatter, and all that's left is to hide in your arms. But I think I'm seeing double, and I can't for the life of me tell which is the illusion of my imagination and which will lead to me to a safe reality. But then again, who needs reality? I want to print out the analysis, the way you analyze me. And from your brain functions of x and so forth, maybe your fifth derivative will satisfy my needs. It seems to be an even function, but what if, what if it's odd, it's odd. I must choose a value, please value my life. Math-ridden destiny. Oh, it's all so odd. This mirror is showing me picture I've never seem before, but they're ever so familiar. What are these memories that insist on making me do the craziest of things? Where have I been, what's happened to me that these phobias of the strangest things pop up in corners I never expected? My past lives are riddles that I will not solve. Afterall, how can you answer something you don't believe in anyway? The point is that you're black, you're white, and all my life I've yearned for something grey. Won't you dance with me? Please, let's dance our lives away on that moonlit beach that I can see in the not so distant future over there. Grind your coffee beans and ponder the honey's consistency as it drips into your tea. The bees will sting, but it only burns a while, my dear. I wish you would see that this does mean something. I wish you would read between the lines, my lines, my life. I wish you would read. I need you to study me. If you don't long to know me, I'm all but talking to myself, and then the whole idea of companionship is just too ironic for me to swallow. Time will soothe this, won't it? Time has always stolen my trust and stored it with her friend in some dimension I have yet to fathom. Oh, your faith, my dear, why it's right here with me, but you'll have to try a little harder than that. The keys in my pocket will unlock your world if only you'd put forth the effort I need. The keys, the keys -- you're white, you're ebony. Can you explain why you've obviously taken one soul and split it into two so that I must choose which incomplete thought deserves to take a stab at life? The blood might stain, but it adds character. But in that case, I could use a lot less fiction right now. Will you read, will you read this and know what I mean? Oh dear, what if, what if?

Je levrai mes yeux a toi.

I feel like this box is getting smaller and smaller. I want to make a choice, but none of the options in front of me are very ideal. I want you to open this damn thing and rescue me. I'm claustrophobic, but I've stayed here this long waiting for you. He's calling my name, and I'm drawn to him. All the while, I'm looking over my shoulder to see if you will appear. You're ever so distracted. And your lack of time will be our demise, like we always knew it would. But I still can't help but wait for you. And every time I catch your gaze, another thousand years is added to my stay. Oh, you're all I've ever wanted. Why must you torment me this way? Oh, I want to be all you've ever wanted. If I leave for a while, will you get your life in order? If I left you alone, would you wait for my return? Oh, how I would return. Please, tell me what you want, and your wish is my command. He's calling my name, and I'm drawn to him. Just know that I think of you. You're ever so distracted. But when all else is gone, baby, I'll be here.

"Oh, what have I said in vain?"

Absence only makes the heart grow further away.
But you knew that from the start, didn't you?
What we had just can't survive the autumn death.
The winter cold drives both of us away.
I'll talk to you in june when the spring rains have passed.
When you'll take my hand and steal my passion again.
We'll speak of all that could've been.
And in the end, the stars will calm us as we walk away.

All this time I could've been ruling the world.

How easy would it be?
I have all the power I need.
Everything move you make is in the palm of my hand.
I could crush you so easily.
Your body, your soul, they're mine.
I control what you see of me.
You think I'm graceful, confident, inspiring.
But this is the real me -- my core.
My motivations lie in your suffering.
That look in your eyes.
The pain reads so easily.
And I mirror you as I say that I'm sorry.
But this power is making me high.
And the scent of your blood brings a smile to my lips.
How easy it is to use you.
I can train you to touch me in all the right ways.
And when you demand too much.
When you demand commitment.
That is when you will see her — me.
Granite eyes, an evil grin.
Words that are salt in your wounds.
And one last kiss, the fatal shot to the head.
One by one, I can dangle your passions in front of you.
Fall under my spell.
Mysterious.
You were always so curious.
Enough to follow me straight into hell.

What will we say when we look back?

Looking back on my life, you were so worth the time,
To feel your hand in mine is all I could ask for.
All the pained memories, now have come to be something,
That when it all slips away, we can look back and say...
Searching back through your mind, will I be worth the time?
Will you feel my lips as they brush past your own?
All the nights and the stars that were sparking inside us,
So when it all slips away, we can look back and say...

"All across the nation girls are crying and boys are masturbating."

This can't be what that is because I know you don't feel it, but I do, and I'm not sure how to deal with it because I've always run from it, but now that this is so different I have to face the possibility that this might be what I've run from all my life, and if I'm scared I could ruin it, so I should just accept and move forward, but in the back of my mind the words haunt me, and I wonder when I can set them free, if ever, because maybe you'll never feel the way that I do, or maybe you do, and you have, but you're just better at hiding things, or maybe you're scared like I am, and maybe you're frozen in place or just taking it slow, which is really fine because at this point I've never been so perfectly content with such little motion, but it all seems right and natural and just the way things are supposed to be, and I know when you do I'll be happy, and if you don't I'll be happy too because just being with you is enough to make me feel completely at ease, and that's really all anyone could ask for in life.

'Tis not meant to be explained.

To be free to be myself is all I can ask.
And yet it seems to pool in the back of our minds.
To never be answered by you or me.
The question at hand indefinitely stands.
Will this shift into something beautiful?

There is no insecurity.

I feel it dripping away.
I can almost taste the freedom.
Seduced by the safeness of it all.
Will I be free of paranoia?
Will I be done playing these games?
Or is this merely another fleeting moment...
Life only makes sense in fleeting moments.
Then people screw it up.

Can't you taste it?

I remember the circus.
I won a balloon.
My prize in a bag of peanuts.
The clown with the little white hat.
Red designs.
Red designs.
Remember when red designs were innocent?
Painted on a clowns face.
Pedro.
Come to Pedro's!
Chocolate in red sauce!
But only wine when we eat at home.
White wine.
I crave more.
The sweet smell.
Taste like flower's petals.
Burning, burning.
My brain craves numbness.
My throat craves pain.
What a pure combination.
The yin and the yang.
The up and the down.
Up and down.
Pulsing.
Two lovers on a bed of thorns.
Forget the pain, the blood.
To look into each other's eyes.
To feel each other's skin.
Nerves.
Orgasm and fall.
Where the thorns will have their place.
Their own chance to bite the lovers' flesh.
Pale skin.
Pale like artists' sketchbooks.
Not tan like magazines.
Your eyes.
Bursts of color amidst the pale, the red.
The curse.
Of your eyes.
The pain, the pleasure.
The lovers, the thorns.
The red.
The red designs.
They're not so innocent anymore.

If you're going to feel lonely, you might as well be alone. (part three)

Your freedom is my muse.
You are so many things.
That I wish I could be.
Your smile sets me on fire.
Your eyes.
So sad.
So bright.
My dear, you tear me up.
And you always see.
The darkest side of me.

Rather tragic.

So much potential.
Would you throw it all away?
In trying to escape, you've run straight to the thing you fear.
The darker side is easier.
Potential energy is useless.
The brightest always burn out.
Doesn't every person have two sides?
The darker one is always easiest.
So much potential.
Would you throw it all away?
Where passion is essential.
Have you lost the dream that sparked the flame?

If you're going to feel lonely, you might as well be alone. (part two)

Everytime progress is promised,
It somehow slips away.
And for every smile I can bring,
A glance you cast her way.
Where did I miss the warning signs?
Where did this deadly shape begin?
My tongue is saying I am fine.
But you're killing, killing, killing...
Your eyes are so serrated directed towards her face.
This wasn't complicated until she took my place.

Miss Hollywood

She may be glam, glitz.
Sex beyond your fantasies.
But she will fade.
A bad memory.
The fancy whore who stole my name.
I am real.
Realize I am more than she can offer.

If you're going to feel lonely, you might as well be alone. (part one)

Raging.
Thrashing.
Consumed by this thick darkness.
It pulls.
It twists.
Entangling.
Caught, trapped.
Struggling.
All the strength I have.
Quickly drained.
Eternally swirling.
Raging.
Deep emotions claw their way to the surface.
Although they were never meant to be seen.
Never meant to be touched.
Awakened.
By jealousy.
Her screams -- earpiercing.
And the darkness begins to flow.
Drowning.
The soul unsure of which way to run.
Craving the ability to hate.
Craving, raging, no escape.
This strange love pulls at veins.
Directions.
Contradicting.
Raging.
Exploding.
I want to explode.
For in all the ways we've avoided each other.
There's still something there.
A bond, deep, unbreakable.
And in searching for its name.
Friendship.
Lust.
Loneliness.
Curiosity.
Nothing seems to match.
Is this what love is?
I've always pushed that aside.
I have many reasons.
I am so logical.
Too young.
Naive.
I barely know you.
But i'm growing older.
Young, yes.
Naive, true.
But the times we've had.
Limited as they were.
They were.
And I wish you felt their power.
Raging.
Pulling.
Tearing as I see you with her.
If I could read your mind.
Would this be better or worse?
Your silence.
It's always been your mystery.
But I'm sick of searching.
Torture.
Torture.
The game is over for me.
I resign because progess is always negated.
And victory requires motion.
Take this part of me.
And do not threaten it.
I swear to never paint with oleanders.

A silent shock inspired.

Half seems to be my curse
I can only catch half of your attention
I can only keep it for half a day
And when you half change your mind
You only half leave
And I'm always caught in the middle
Between this half reality
And this half broken dream
I'm not sure I'll ever be whole
And I'll never be fully gone
So this half of me that you see
Is reason enough for your disgust
My curse leaves me broken
And uncleansable

Paradox (an unfinished story that will probably never be finished)

Blood oozed out of the fresh cut on my arm.
I watched it drip into the sink
and down the drain.
Along with it went my sanity.
I felt no pain.
As the blood escaped my arm
so did I.
A morbid escape, my only escape.
What exactly are you running from?
I have no fucking clue.
I did know one thing:
This was real. This was proof that somewhere inside of me a person existed.
Overwhelming emotions threatened to smother me,
but I was still breathing.

"Keila!"

Bright red stains shot across white porcelain.
Pounding on the bathroom door.
Rushing water stole the crimson beauty away from my eyes.
It swirled coldly down the drain to the safety of darkness.

"Goddamnit, Kelia! What the fuck are you doing in there?"
I pulled my sleeves down to my hands.
"Holy shit, Keith. Can't you go two seconds without jacking-off?"
I unlocked the door to reveal my nineteen-year-old brother sporting a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and a sly grin.
"At least I'm not crazy."
"Get a girlfriend!" I yelled as I stormed down the hallway to my room.
My facade carried me to the door, but as soon as I slammed it shut behind me

I collapsed.
I clawed at the carpet
Trying to find something.
Anything.
I am numb
There is nothing around me.
Nothing can touch me.
I am void of every feeling and sensation that would classify me as human.
Thick, dark slime is inside of me.
Flowing through my veins.
Swimming in my lungs.
I cannot breathe.
I see myself writhing in strangled silence on the floor.
I am disgusted with this thing that has claimed my body.
I leave myself to struggle alone.

Faded photograph.

I wonder...
Do you think of me?
When the lights aren't on,
And you find yourself alone...
Among the faded photographs,
Can you find me there?
Am I among the dead roses,
Which you so tenderly collect,
Along your cracking mirror?
Do I ever haunt you?

I wonder...
Do you dream of me?
When it's dark outside,
Am I with you then?
Can you see me,
Among the midnight stars?
Have I brought tears to your eyes?
Could you find me beautiful,
Or worthy of your kiss?
Do I suffocate you?

Intricate.

You'll find her kissing raindrops
She whispers secrets to the wind
The clouds know every part of her
The intimate sunbeams find her dancing
Stars sparkle in her eyes
She wears flowers in her hair
You'll never know her quite as well as the sand
She's told the ocean everything
Every beauty strips her of another layer
Her soul will soon bare all to you
As she sits among the tress
Our skin will be inscribed with this