of Death and Love
I love. I can't help but to love. "It's who you are and why you have that job that you do. You care about everybody and think you can fix everything for them. But you need to learn how to be a little bit selfish now." and with that sentence came the pointer finger and thumb squeezed almost together to show me the amount of selfishness I am to be permitted and should pursue.
Selfish.
Selfish.
I was by nights end and for that another heart could break. I am selfish. And that's why love continues to be evasive. Bad decisions. Oh- I pay the price for those. And then make more. And pay again. If he knew how selfish I have been in years past he may have given me different advice. And maybe not kissed me so incredibly.
Fix everybody. I can't fix anybody. Fucking Death. You are my nemesis. Not for reasons my own - although you certainly kicked my ass a few times too, didn't you? You and I are in a constant battle. A constant fight. You taketh away and I try to brush away the dusty pain you leave in your wake. You take and I try to give more of that heart that makes bad decisions and chases away the chances of love. I think you're a hired gun to kill off my chance at love. More than that - you strike at those I have never met and you strike the ones I love so much. I carry your thefts around with me every day. I remember the names- the dates- the tears- the images scalded into my mind and thoughts that stay with me like coffee companions. All of those we lose. They may not have met me before but they keep me company now. And I pour another cup of sorrow and try to fix everybody while I fix nobody and Death- you come back again. And we fight again. I will brush the dust you leave in your wake and with my broken heart that makes bad decisions I will try to soothe the razor sharp cuts you leave in those I love.
"You're too intimidating. Personality too big and scare the men away. It's just who you are." said a previous on the same night that I made a bad decision with the first one.
Now that is funny to me. Death is running around stealing people's hearts and demolishing their happiness and I am intimidating? People fall in love everyday and risk the fight with Death. Death can destroy that in a mere moment yet people will try anyway. Knowing the risks of losing one to Death- people fall in love everyday. I am too intimidating though. I won't be worth the risk because.. I could.. what? Leave? Fail? Surely Death is a much stronger affect than that. I just pour another cup of sorrow and contemplate that if not for bad decisions- I would not love at all. I break a heart to soothe my heart and soothe hearts with my broken heart because Death has kicked another ass.
In this there is a lesson. Stop breaking hearts? Stop fixing hearts? What?
I just don't know. But here is the part to pay the closest attention to.. it is not pity I feel but annoyance and anger that I am expected to fight my nemesis with super powers that are flawed. Superman couldn't fight crime without his strength and ability to fly. Batman has those amazing gadgets. What if they malfunctioned? How would they win their battles? And how am I to fight an opponent as final as Death with broken powers? This heart that makes bad decisions and doesn't know how to defend itself- how does a broken weapon fight its most despicable enemy? It's like sucking out Sherlock's very brain and asking him to go seek Moriarty.
This is all I have tonight. Death won again and may have struck its worst blow and I am helpless to fight and simply sit and watch someone slip out of my hands like blood that flows from my broken heart.
Selfish.
Selfish.
I was by nights end and for that another heart could break. I am selfish. And that's why love continues to be evasive. Bad decisions. Oh- I pay the price for those. And then make more. And pay again. If he knew how selfish I have been in years past he may have given me different advice. And maybe not kissed me so incredibly.
Fix everybody. I can't fix anybody. Fucking Death. You are my nemesis. Not for reasons my own - although you certainly kicked my ass a few times too, didn't you? You and I are in a constant battle. A constant fight. You taketh away and I try to brush away the dusty pain you leave in your wake. You take and I try to give more of that heart that makes bad decisions and chases away the chances of love. I think you're a hired gun to kill off my chance at love. More than that - you strike at those I have never met and you strike the ones I love so much. I carry your thefts around with me every day. I remember the names- the dates- the tears- the images scalded into my mind and thoughts that stay with me like coffee companions. All of those we lose. They may not have met me before but they keep me company now. And I pour another cup of sorrow and try to fix everybody while I fix nobody and Death- you come back again. And we fight again. I will brush the dust you leave in your wake and with my broken heart that makes bad decisions I will try to soothe the razor sharp cuts you leave in those I love.
"You're too intimidating. Personality too big and scare the men away. It's just who you are." said a previous on the same night that I made a bad decision with the first one.
Now that is funny to me. Death is running around stealing people's hearts and demolishing their happiness and I am intimidating? People fall in love everyday and risk the fight with Death. Death can destroy that in a mere moment yet people will try anyway. Knowing the risks of losing one to Death- people fall in love everyday. I am too intimidating though. I won't be worth the risk because.. I could.. what? Leave? Fail? Surely Death is a much stronger affect than that. I just pour another cup of sorrow and contemplate that if not for bad decisions- I would not love at all. I break a heart to soothe my heart and soothe hearts with my broken heart because Death has kicked another ass.
In this there is a lesson. Stop breaking hearts? Stop fixing hearts? What?
I just don't know. But here is the part to pay the closest attention to.. it is not pity I feel but annoyance and anger that I am expected to fight my nemesis with super powers that are flawed. Superman couldn't fight crime without his strength and ability to fly. Batman has those amazing gadgets. What if they malfunctioned? How would they win their battles? And how am I to fight an opponent as final as Death with broken powers? This heart that makes bad decisions and doesn't know how to defend itself- how does a broken weapon fight its most despicable enemy? It's like sucking out Sherlock's very brain and asking him to go seek Moriarty.
This is all I have tonight. Death won again and may have struck its worst blow and I am helpless to fight and simply sit and watch someone slip out of my hands like blood that flows from my broken heart.
Comments
Post a Comment