Done, I’m Done

I am dying for something human from a lover

The rest of life is decaying rapidly at the wasteland

As all this self-confidence love the inner you crap is a nuclear winter

I have expressed feelings, written, done poetic

Meditated on the yoga mat bending my spirit to be one with the universe

Searching for God behind every smile like just point me in a direction

Anywhere, anyone, even the wrong place; I just want some faith beyond nothing

That this is not atheist wonderland it appears to be

Validated in all the rejection and silence masking time and space

Into the great indifferent

Performing theater for rocks and stardust flittering hot flashes

In a grand menopause of life’s creative properties shutting down

The whole is squandered and miracles are coughs fudging the system

I want to hear my heart matters to someone without a vested biological interest

To have that reciprocating wave undulate inside my being and light me on fire

Not the test flight, but the real go, the missiles and the bullets blazing

I am dying for something human from a lover

And I think she has me dead to rites

That I wanted and believed this was it; the changing of the guards

The watchtower shifted and no, just nothing, just empty

How and by and all I want is to stamp a passport and get back into the ignorance of neverland

Believing before the butcher took my organ and dismembered my innards before my eyes

Stuffed the squashed pluck back in my flesh bag and deemed me still alive

As if capable of navigating this wrenching mire with a cartoon heart and coal lungs

I wanted to see you once; I wanted to feel you in her like we had a deal

That I would go through all that other shit and a beautiful reward was possible

That I would pay back to her in every kindness for the other’s malignant disparagement

I would be alive in the fire dancing and she would be repaid for her own sentencing

I saw it all vanish in a Wednesday in an email popping on my phone

Confirming my suspicions on why she would not call me back

That I slipped, written and said the wrong verse exposed the lines of a heart

Too gray and too big to fit in paragraphs and the continental qualifiers obliterated my hope

Hope that you exist beyond the realm in the belief that vulnerable women exist

That I am allowed to ever believe that this is not a random bullshit circus

Of how much can I take; how many punches; how many welts; how many years

Fuck it I don’t care; if this was nothing than fuck it, fuck you, fuck it all; I’m done