If I break your heart tonight,
Hold onto its pieces until
I can bring them back together,
A shattered replica of the past,
A reminder that things will not last
That things will not be the same
As they are now.
What is the meaning of this all,
Of the world, of reality
If it is but a fallacy,
A perception of what could never be?
Why does it matter if I break your heart
Or if you break mine
Or if we get lost in the throws of time
Or if we end it all tonight?
Why does it matter if we live or die
If we carry on again to beg
To speak to a god
That is not there
That can do no good
To heal our lost minds?
why does it matter if I breathe or cry
Tell the truth or suffocate
On all the lies
That I tell to last one more night.
The desire for physical contact is uncanny;
An anvil pressed against my skin,
Waiting to be lifted by the touch
Of another human hand,
Fingertips graced with warmth,
Filled with felicity and touched
I feel untethered,
Flying from the earth,
A separate being from my body,
Unattached, unaccounted for,
Lost without the hug that ties me back to reality,
Without the soft kiss on the cheek that leads me back to the
Definition of what it means to be human.
For what is my humanity if not wasted
Without another hand in mine,
Holding me still in time.
“I’m alone,” She whispered to no one,
To passing bodies absorbed in themselves,
With nothing to think of
But their own existence
“I’m alone,” She mumbled a little bit louder,
A little less prouder, a little more fed up
With the uncaring people.
“I’m alone,” She said, standing up from her seat,
Rising to her feet, a feat in and of itself.
“I’m alone,” She shouted…
but no one cared to hear.
It seems I find myself alone on Saturday specifically,
Cuddling with my memories and munching on images
Of times we once shared long ago when I was young-
er than I am now, which is always.
My dog seems to ignore the silence and fills it
With roaring snoring and sharp breaths,
Reminding me that-ah- it is Saturday,
And I seem to be alone.