sleepdeprivedthoughts

[sleepdeprivedthoughts]

He Loves Me

he loves me

And that terrifies me

Because love is fickle

And blind

They say all is fair in love and war

What does that mean?

Does that mean if he loves me he can hurt me?

How do I even know if I am hurt?

When I see him my heart skips a beat

Is that excitement or fear?

They say that there is a thin line between love and hate

So today he loves me

And tomorrow he leaves bruises

Either emotionally or physically

Or he will love me forever

Never get sick of my shit

Hold me when I cry

Make me laugh

Care for me when I’m sick

But how am I supposed to know

Whether he loves me or hates me

If love so closely resembles hate

That it often begins life the same way

With a skipped beat of the heart

And a line crossed

And a promise to never let go

Until your very last breath

[sleepdeprivedthoughts]

Mirage

To put

Feelings into words

Into sentences

And syllables

Into Morphemes

And graphemes

Staple them together

And rip them apart again

To paint a picture

With no color

An alternate dimension

That doesn’t exist

To convert electrical impulses

Into scratches on a sheet of ground up tree

There’s a poetry in the act itself

Because what is more poetic than

Turning nothing into something

Turning death into beauty

Turning pain into physical marks

But how are we to know

Whether these feelings are real

Because our brains can lie

And our hearts can lie

And our lovers can lie

So does love really exist?

Or am I simply drawn to him

And he to me

By hormones and impulses

Is the world full of color

Or do I paint it that way?

How should I know what’s real and what’s not

If I can’t decide who’s writing the plot

Am I the captain of this ship

Or is it another who is steering

And if the boat should tip

Is it because of me or the engineering?

Will I sink or swim

Float or drown

Which way is even up or down

Because this map I’m steering with

Has not a single thing on it

[sleepdeprivedthoughts]

Untitled

I am so very afraid

Of letting go

Of loving you

That tears well in my eyes at the thought

My heart races and aches

And my stomach knots

And I can’t tell if this is good or bad

Because no one tells you

That to love is to be terrified of being hurt

And my love for you

Has made me weak

I have given you

All of me

And I don’t trust that you

Have given me the same

And will you love me forever,

Or tire of me in a year?

Because I have faith in you, my dear

But I also had faith in the last one.