Unrequited

Have you ever loved someone to such an extent that the intent of calling them your whole world isn't enough? Because it's tough to take something so complex as love and give it some sort of physical pretext. So, words struggle to form in your head because how can you find the words for her form. Is her hair as golden as the radiant sun or is its hue more a straw-colored one? She becomes to beautiful for your feeble attempts at comparison and the metaphors struggle to come. Trying to compare the incomparable winds up creating cliched parables that sound more like the writings of maniac than the clever romantic. The hair being impossible to describe, let alone the pale blue-maybe grey-eyes even harder still, a beauty unattainable in words like Helen of Troy, you retreat to the feelings that make you feel like a boy. Again, you're stuck with nothing but overused tropes of butterfly-infested stomachs and how without her you are at the end of your rope. How does one even put such feelings into lines of prose? Why did you think you'd be able to match the literary pros?  Fractured sentences and fragmented ideas are swept into a pile whilst you still struggle all the while. It has become a love dug deep into the heart where the truest feelings begin to seep. Because whether her hair is golden or straw, her eyes blue or grey, you hem and haw looking for words buried in the dictionary to express a love that is anything but ordinary. But in the end the entire struggle was to no avail because there was no hope for you to ever prevail. A heart is put on a sleeve, a naive hope is held onto to believe. A fleeting belief that love still exists between the muse and yourself. Feelings are stored on a shelf in a hope to be shared with her again because they still consume so much of your world. But the love has been replaced by pain and that pain replaced by regret, and the regret, well that's replaced with a hope that you'll be able to forget. Be able to leave behind the longing and wondering, wondering if it'll ever be all right. If maybe you could some how forget the softness in her voice when she said good night or how when the conversation seemed to stop, so did the whole world with it. It's hard not to imagine how her smile seemed to somehow send chills down my spine, yet all I wanted was it to be the only image in my mind. And yet for all these feelings it's hardest knowing they aren't returned and may never be, but somehow that's fine with me.

Drifting

     It's hard to explain the sensation of being stranded in the middle of the universe. And I don't mean some far away planet or some backwards concept that somehow our little pebble is the center of All. The best thing I can think of to describe it is, have you ever been out swimming out in a large body of water? You know that part you get to where your feet no longer touch the ground, but just sort of dangle there. There's still a sense of things around you, you can feel the water currents, the air, your own body moving. But out there stuck in the final frontier there's nothing, your whole body just dangles there in space with nothing supporting you.
      So, some backstory would probably help explain as to why I'm here, but honestly...I don't even really remember, I remember being asleep and then I'm here. Was I part of some alien abduction gone wrong? Was the spaceship low on fuel so they had to jettison something and gave me the cargo treatment? I've been here for about a week and there's been no salvage mission so I don't think I'm lost cargo. You'd think if you're gonna use resources to get something you wanna make sure you get it right? Plus I don't see any planets nearby, but then again they could have used hyperspace...or is it hyperdrive? Light speed?...maybe ludicrous speed....look honestly I have no idea how my car works, let alone space travel.
     And that's it I guess. I know it's anti-climatic, but next time you black out and wind up in the middle of space I'd like to hear your version of events. Not that I could hear it because there's no sounds in space, which makes my attempts at crying for help pointless, but the indomitable human spirit prevents me from not trying. Maybe I'm not human though, it might help how I survived the vacuum of space. I still have no real idea on that one, All the studies I've done (i.e. making an educated guess based on observation) I'm like 95 percent sure I'm human....maybe 85 percent.... The only other thought I had was maybe I was some sort of celestial being given physical form. A powerful entity meant to restore order to the cosmos like Galactus or Thanos. .....Wait those are both bad guys aren't they?
     In any case, I highly doubt that as a possibility because if it were true I think I'd be able to move in some fashion other that aimless drifting. It has given me an incredible amount of time to think about things though or at least I feel like I've had a long time because in space time literally does not care about you. To the universe, currently, I am like a bag in the wind....some random chunk of garbage that will soon flutter on to bother someone else. The feeling isn't that bad though, I'm honestly a lot happier than I have been in awhile. I mean, yeah, there was tons of stuff I still wanted to due back on Earth, but I was also a twenty-something struggling artist who had nothing, but a cell phone, empty wallet, and for some reason a pack of matches to his name when he was expelled into the ether. If art is supposed to be about seeing the universe differently and achieving higher thought or whatever snooty people are saying these days then I've at least succeeded in something.
     I don't know if I really want to go back to Earth though. I did say there was stuff I wanted to do, but tons of people have stuff they want to do and never do. Can't really blame a guy for giving up when there's no real solution, it's not even giving up then is it? I mean if I was captured by some alien race then I could fight back. Theoretically speaking of course because I'd have some enemy to against, a face to the evil, but there isn't so I can't. It's a bit fatalist, sure, but I'm also a realist. A realist artist seems like an oxy moron, but I do what's real. Hell if I even know what's happening currently is real, could all be just some severe reaction to a bad bowl of ramen or whatever. Who knows....I don't really know what this is all supposed to be, a good bye note or something maybe. No matter what it is, how are people even going to see this?
     Whatever, all I know is that in my brief, or long again no sense of time, out here in nothingness I don't think I've learned any big life lessons or universal truths to pass along to whoever this gets this. Sorry, man, if I had something I'd definitely share it, but sometimes things just happen in this universe and you just happen to be caught up in something. Wait, maybe there's the lesson I was supposed to learn. Shit happens.......did I do it? Is this one of those "solve the puzzle and be set free" deals? Nevermind, no one's even listening. To whoever gets this message promise me this....promise me you'll tell someone, anyone, you love them. Sorry, again, if you were expecting something more important, I don't have a wife or anything for you to give a dying message to....so I don't know make something up, you're smart. I assume you're smart because you somehow got this message and if you're not smart then whatever still go find someone to love...or something. I honestly don't care, love is complicated so follow your heart.

Tired Eyes

Tired eyes stare at blank pages
Time passes by fading into the ages
Desperation tries to force perspiration into inspiration

Darkness seeps into the bones
As weary minds dream of home
Exhausted minds fight the binds of time

A quiet voice makes a quiet plea
Something to help them flee
Escape the pain the seems to come without gain

Tired eyes slowly close shut
Their time, finally up
A lost fight, but never a fruitless plight