Wednesday, November 16, 2011

a letter to a love of mine

hand and hand, we walk down 14th street

and I look at you and wonder why are you so

badly withdrawn. look at you here --

no emotion to anything, not even the

softest touch of the summer breeze

or seeing a bum old bird lady cry

could make you feel any sympathy -

there you go, manufacturing those

dark iron walls that protect you from

sorrow. but what you will find is that to

not feel is sorrow as well, for you dwell

in the same dark cave most of the time

nothing to search for, nothing you will find --

you wish you had some type of praise to give

or that there really was some higher power

who controls all of us, who makes sure we all

go to heaven. but you know you don't.

damaged - because you chose too soon

and blinded by what the human experience

is supposed to be. trees behind you, blow

wind into your ears, and sometimes i can see

that your brain feels connected to mother

nature but never other humans.

you tried once or twice, but it all crashed

and you expect everyone to be normal

but in realty the concept can't exist

because everyone isn't normal so

to not be normal is normal and

everybody is.

aimlessly you walk, and wonder if

everyone is just hiding behind their

skin. you stop to look into their eyes

but the depth is thin, you can't tell --

you don't have the sixth sense

to read minds or understand

the meaning of life through

someone else's perspective.

you get shy when they look back…

at times you feel you'r stuck in a whirlwind

of what everyone who allegedly cares

for you wants you to become…

and at this point you'd rather be a bum

because the anxiety you get from

feeling a need to impress them

makes you feel even more empty

and more lost with who you are.

you can't even tell yourself what you want

because the answer would simply be

nothing, or something materialistic

that would band aid your sadness for a day

and in a lot of ways a quick fix used to be

all you needed --

not anymore, woe is you

for you want insight and love and peace

and all those other nearly unattainable

things that only the people in the movies or

the buddhas and shamans find. you're surrounded

by a shallow ocean that drains your

creativity and your very own peace of mind.

hopeless, but pretty, so you'll dream

just one more time and if it doesn't

work you'll pray to a different god and

hope for better results. … ..

maybe aphrodite could return your heart

and perhaps satan could

sell you back your soul --

maybe this coldness

will slowly melt into what would

become something warm again--

and a lover or friend will

come back and you can live in

a place where turquoise petals

fall from trees which you could catch and use

to wipe away your clear tears.

perhaps there's a

letter you could send, or a bargain

you can make to gain back your strength.

or at least get back your heart,

even if it's black and blue and in pieces.

i really hope one day you'll find

whatever it is you want, and just know

that you'll always be my true love

you'll be able to feel the sun shine one day,

if you could let it.

but i can't stay to help, i've gone west

i've tried my best, but it just isn't me you need.

-marilyn metzger

long island, 2011

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