Photo by Anton Darius / Unsplash.com
Beautifully complicated lies;
An art form, really.
You could call it perfected science.
Einstein would have a field day.
You are disgustingly intriguingly,
Let me learn the ins and outs of your mind.
I want to know what you were like when
you were the little boy with the dreamy brown eyes
your mom raised you to be.
When you would run in the yard
enclosed with white picket fences,
safely into her arms
as she wished you would always do.
I wish I knew you when you found happiness in truth
Not machismo.
I know you did this once.
I want to know you before you used grey smoke to destroy the pathways
That lead you to any kind of emotional connection,
The led you back to me—
Why?
Why do you push away those who care?
To bring close those who don’t?
To bring close those who rely on you,
but don’t notice when you haven’t let yourself rely on them.
I know I shouldn’t care,
You really do make my head spin.
Maybe this is my biggest problem with those who surround me,
A teenage game everyone is involved in for status,
for acceptance,
devoiding us all of sympathy and emotion.
Leaving us all alone in the crowded room—