Wrong Hypotheses

and you think it’s depression,
That I hate myself
or maybe I am not satisfied –
Do you question yourself?
Perhaps the past has its toll on me.

and you think it’s us,
That it’s not quite working out
or maybe I don’t trust you –
Do you wonder if I truly love you?
Perhaps I hate what we have.

and you think it’s jealousy,
That I want to be different
or maybe just some parts –
Do you think I want to be somebody else?
Perhaps I would change if I could.

and you never think,
That it’s just natural
or maybe meant to happen –
Do you realize when I see her…
Perhaps I wonder if you truthfully
fine her more beautiful than me?

The Saga of Trust

Living in the fear of loneliness,
a black wall compressing itself inward.
Your voice calls out and tells me this ‘truth’,
but I’m too obsessed to believe it so.
The bottle of this water freezes over as I sit,
thinking of you and all of these promises,
laid out like a deck of cards with both red and black suits-
the colors never matter, only their faces.

A worry tremor can be heard through the phone,
the dial tones become annoying after a few minutes.
This is the saga of somebody who is caught
between her sanity and the love she feels,
What good is a life when you are running around
never knowing what is real and what is not?

I am here in this same old room
patted down with strange bright lights,
it’s like an interrogation of the soul
Resided on by yours truly and the other lovers.
Of all the stables in my life I choose to lean on you,
a thicket of wheat tumbling with no direction in these winds.

Fly solo instead of flying haywire.

Is that really so? I have learned again;
It is my own inability to trust that holds me back,
holds back the ability to feel perfectly okay.
I should take your word for it and everything else,
have faith in this humanity I keep trying to save,
Maybe then one day they will start to have faith in me.

I have come to these mere conclusions,
that life is better lived in honesty
So at first believe that all whom you encounter are honest.
Simple?
I will no longer question but feel comforted with your answers.
This is my saga, care to join in?

A certain film entices the damaged, the lost,
the wounded of what is in your head
(a twisted image between these walls,
painted cleverly by your rivals).
I will sit and watch with the clocks ticking by,
holding your hand like a runaway child,
For being here is better than on the other side of you.

A Trust Exercise

To me your words fall off as lies,
a black paint peeling off only to stick to my skin.
My curiosity creates instability,
Are those thoughts still existent?
Am I more than what you’ve ever wanted?
What hides beneath those chocolate waves?
I need security to hold me up.

The walls of my past are crumbling,
I suffocate underneath the rubble
Eyes tear from the creeping dust
racks of memories cut me through,
His voice trickles out of the cracks.

Have you ever been used so severely
that you know nothing else?
(My knowledge of fetishes is disturbing
so many times have I been the tool,
just to fix some guy’s fantasy
whereas I know now just [u]me[/u]
is nothing in anyone’s desires
– why cannot I just believe
that you want me at most?)

Because I have a history of lies,
live in their thrashing seas
water filling my lungs as I yearn
for a certain darkness to surround.

When my voice matches my thoughts
an anger in you swells,
as selfish as you say you are.
My past holds chains on me,
too many situations gone wrong.
Given out my trust only to be wronged
more than I thought possible,
I fear it almost too difficult to do again
but I know I have it in me
– – but where? it is lost.
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Are you willing to understand it is not you,
that I cannot trust because of my own incompetence,
even though you should be the doubter if any.
I do not question your actions
just those thoughts (slinking in the background)
like many mens thoughts that have bruised me.

Are you willing to help me find what’s lost,
to ease these begging questions –
a void growing slowly,
a space between us
Are you willing to convince the broken?