Monday, November 11, 2013

A L W ...always


Some poets or literary figures marvel at their transgressions and mistakes and how they have shaped their art form or enhanced their outlook on life. It's the old saying about mistakes get us to where we are. The lesser of the artist world conquers the error driven ways of our human hearts as the traditional 'everything happens for a reason' blanket. No ideology is correct when it comes to actually proving their validity, but we can question the what if's and see what our own perception makes of it all. Johnny Cash said he built his life around failure, using it all as stepping stones from which he grew. George Bernard Shaw said that a  life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing. Both artists in their own respect and both lived great lives.
I think about where I am now, personally and professionally.

Would all this be the same if the love I found was still by my side or would it be all warped?
I know what I would prefer, but I doubt that will ever happen again. A big part of me knows that my life wasn't the bright light after all the mistakes, it's the mistake after all the bright lights.

Today I awoke and it seemed like a lifetime since I looked into your rare eyes. Again, I felt a massive hole in me, a void unmatched by anything I have ever experienced before. I don't know what to do. I re-read the letter. You told me to be strong in it. It was all I couldn't be. Can I look at your writing etched into my skin forever and not think about how much you meant, wait, how much you mean to me! The words of a song we always analysed late at night finally means something to me. The meaning was meant for you.

I watch you change and fly away from me. Never have I listened to a song I loved so dearly and remember my dear true love. Irony is a swirling theme that resonates deep within my core. Is this my karma?

My fingers tremble as I seek your online presence to give me a self assurance that you are happy away from my embrace. I sit in the corner of my classroom and hope no one witnesses the tears escaping from what I think is my soul. I remember gentle strums of the guitar and the angelic voice you treated me to every now and then. The talent in your heart and the passion that made me love each breath you took, and hated each moment I didn't hear it. Each time you sang, goosebumps found my skin. I loved your smile and your touch.

I loved, I love you...
but I pained you.

I remember the fear in your eyes when you read a post on this blog. I was emptying the vessel for our memories. It was a release, and for that I will forever be sorry.

Realisations are an interesting part of life. Like a chord, the emphasis we placed on a song is like the happiest times in our lives. They last within us forever and they make us feel like we are the only people on this Earth. I was lucky to experience so many glowing moments with you. The epitome of a perfect song. The perfect note I will always be chasing, you, Amy.

I look in my wallet. The receipt is battered and bruised, somewhat reminiscent of my heart. This ring was meant for you...