The Emotional Orphan

I can feel you. Take me down. Off the shelf.
From the beginning, I felt your force,
Bringing me to the tears. Though the force isn’t you.
You hold on tooth and nail to make your point.
What’s your point?

I’m clean. A man. Stable. And alone.
Make it so I won’t need to try.
Tired of fighting, your faces are always the same.
I fallaciously face the fact that I’m fine.
I’m just fine. Hope keeps me fine. Ha !

I remember, I noticed
You had found out Life is a hell of a drug.
I need a little more, I think
For a junkie, enough is never enough.
What’s enough?

Shouldered it like a grown man crying
Praying you would show your real face
But you haven’t heard a thing I’ve said.
Covered your ears, for at least two hundred days
What’d I say?

From the island of my bed, I’m praying it gone.
Asking if you felt alright.
I never wanted to hear your truth
Only wanting to hear your voice, because it sounded fine.
My voice, told real truths of being fine.
Though I’m not fine.

My heart takes me down. Off the shelf.
For a moment, I’ll sleep alright.
You just thought it was my manic nature.
Dealing with my one stupid, selfish fear.
Keeps me up restless each night

The blood was dry. You were sober.
Crazyglue filled in all of the cracks
And I should have known your effort was over,
from the blackout curtains covering your heart.
I could remove them. But I’m on your shelf.

There were days then, that to me you were perfect.
And my death was torn out of my head.
Like a movie with Angels I once knew
When my thoughts weren’t nearly intact.(nowhere near fact)
Today I pray for those angels.

Pray they don’t arrive in ambulances or a hearse.
God showed me dreams of you pregnant with our future.
The child crying inside your belly for release.
To deliver the gift of our sanity.
To deliver our gift of Peace.

I felt love again

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