Kissing a Fool

How lost must I be that you have me going back to the one thing I swore I would repress form my lips and mind entirely

Maybe it’s better to stay in a dry spill than go back to the torturous task of an art that has been so played out.

I mean it was played out when it was written out 154 times

Yet here I am trying to reiterate what has always been stated in iambic pentameter

In rhyme

In kids poems

In erotic literature

There’s just nothing new to say about the time consuming, death eating, fucking plain messed feeling up that builds up inside me when I see you, when I think about you, when you hold my hand and kiss my neck

Because it’s all been said before

It’s not new to want to rip apart every memory because so help me God even the happy ones make me feel like there’s nothing to hold on to

Because they’re an echo of doubt

They’re a sad excuse of a deranged version of a fairy tail that I can’t help but find in every book I read, every song I hear and every insignificant sentence that simply mean so much to me

Not knowing if you can read between my lines or there’s a subtext in the way you nonchalantly glace at your side when I’ve drifted off into my non-sense once again

And then there’s your confusion

Which confuses me

And confuses you

And then it’s back to me

And then I end up being completely honest about something that I don’t even know if I’m saying correctly because there tends to be a third party nagging at my brain to mix fictional feelings with uncertain truth and makes me bombard the wall you’ve build up to high because you can’t have me being right

At all

Not even about this

The irony being that you’re the one who supposedly feels so sure about himself

You can’t answer the question of what is it you want

Your coward sense of humor and chivalry surpasses your logic

And yet I’m the one who’s complicated

When I’ve managed to put aside my pride and wait for something that you want but doesn’t convince you

Knowing all the same that if the tables were turned you wouldn’t wait for me

Maybe I am crazy

Or just plainly stupid

But I guess you must have been kissing a fool


A Wall

“We build a wall around our hearts and then wonder why nobody loves us”

Am i the only one who can se whats wrong with this quote? I mean, people who have never loved and want to be loved wouldn’t just hide away behind bullet proof glass, they would go out to chase the illusion they have of what love is.

We, the broken hearted, the unfortunate turned cynics, know that when we decide to build a wall around our hearts, the soul purpose is not not be loved o even mingle with the illusion of love, because that is all it is, an illusion. It is something so perfect that it can only be left to movies, books and songs; when love is taken to reality it becomes like everything touched by human hands, something that is just MESSED UP.

To be honest, I have failed to meet a couple that makes me truly say they love each other. One comes close though, and the way they act makes it seem like their not even together. Kind of ironic that they really do seem to care about each other, unlike many couples who can’t keep of each other and are together because they love what they think they have, but really, their not in love. Confusing, yes; true, of course.

Again, everything humans seem to touch or put into practice, turns into mush. If love was really all it is cracked up to be, a guy would realize that if a woman leaves her boyfriend for him, she’s worth it, because she thinks, at least thought, he was worth it. If love was really like it seems to be in books, when a girl that has history with a guy texts him the day he breaks up with his girlfriend, it wouldn’t just be a coincidence, it would have some sort of meaning to the both of them. But love is only an ideal, like any great theory, it only works on paper.

I’m not saying it doesn’t exist. I know of people who love each other unconditionally, no matter the distance, the history, the family or the race. There are people who somehow find that novel worthy relationship who are married for 40 years and drink Gin every single friday, get drunk and make a night of it. There are people who know each other inside out, who finish each others sentences, who know exactly what the other is thinking just by looking at them, these lucky ones exist.

I had the privilege of being “in love”, o some sort of moderation of real love, but I realized that it was not what i thought it would be. It was not what I read about in countless books or cried over in many movies, and I was disappointed. I then realized that I wanted something more, I wanted something worth reading about. So the wall I have built up is for someone to actually climb over and crumble it down from the inside. For someone to make me see the outside world and to feel a love that is actually worth feeling.

Until then, I have decided I will continue to be just a person, content where she’s at. Trying to avoid drama and not searching endlessly for someone to climb the wall, because, well, love that is worth writing about is never planned, is never imagined; it just happens.