The Emotional Orphan

There must always be a woman.
It’s obligatory. In no way fiction.
Isn’t that the way all stories begin …and end ?
A beautiful girl, an air of mystery.
Infatuation, Love and Plans.
The Joy I know is full of life.
Joy doesn’t know her.
Joy is a mystery.
Life– hers and mine fading fast.
And I love her with unbridled passion
For that’s how you love Joy, unbridled.
Like in a Wim Wenders film-with a touch of David Lynch.
Beautifully crafted, surreal, a vision.
Dramatically exaggerated.
Understood through a different language.
A chance meeting, a crossing
Of two paths meant to merge.
And as if by magic, the world as it was vanished.
Joy was on the run.
Not from a gray, humdrum existence
But from a sharp black sunshine,
Shadows and all.
Looking for the gray areas.
What can you do with a defenseless defended woman in the dark ?
Is the only choice really to learn I’m not the one she promised I am ?
But that I’m her crash instead.
Calling to power wretched familiarity.
Designed to save her from the truth.
Forcing her right back where she has always been ?
“Do you love me”. she asks,
“More than you will ever know…”
“Well I dont love you”…she echoes again to remind herself.
Because I’m terrified of a life of habits,
Appointments and regular meal times.
Of sleep, and waking hours alike.
In the closed in – open spaces.
Someone poisoned her apple,
I kissed her and she woke up.
But schools out now, why not take a gamble,
And go right back to sleep ?
Is anyone breathing in there?
Can”t you hear me anymore ?- Can’t you feel me?
It is a familiar story too.
Joy was on the run.
To, from, or in place ?
Joy just wanted to get away.
Joy was going to get away.
ALL the way away.
And as if by black magick,
The world as it was to be vanished.

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