Empathy Poetry

It’s been months since our last encounter

I can still taste your lips

Soft and sweet

Tongues dancing to a slow rhythm beat

Fingers intertwined

Silky dark hair covering your face

As I lean in more and more

Bodies yearning to be made one

This can not be a sin to feel this euphoric

Now I remember why I have to think back

To when we were exceptionally high on one another

However, our bond became an intoxicating poison

Your absence still lingers

I remember the day I decided to leave

You did not reach out; You became a ghost

It is a melancholy feeling

I tend to break hearts I have been told

I even break my own

Perhaps that is what was so similar between us

Our mutual suffering

And our old souls being misunderstood

My pride forever gets the best of me

Father said since I was small

I had fire in me that would never die

Therefore, I shall run forever wild

I tend to do all the things you hate

For I am dangerous and can’t be tamed

I am a nomad

I can not be told where to go

I can not belong to someone

I shall always know what I felt was real

Something always takes me back to thoughts of you

A sad song, novels and drunken actions I can’t undo

Still I remember the memories

I reminisce and ponder

It’s been months since our last encounter

Isn’t it peculiar how men rush to war unafraid

However, the slightest feeling of possible love for a woman

Leads them to their knees

The greatest fear of all

–Dangerous

–Unexpected

–Consuming

Is love for a woman who may one day leave

Don’t try to reach out to me once you’ve figured out you were wrong about us. Distance may make your heart grow fonder. Time may heal the hurt. However, I am not blind to the chaos you caused me and the destruction you left behind.

You have to be a bit mad to go far in life. Who else comes up with crazy ideas of changing the world? It’s obviously not the norm. Take pride in what has made you different. I refuse to allow anyone to use my disorder against me. Just take a look at all the heroes and leaders in history. Far more were mad than most people would like to ever believe.

Once the ink is on the paper

I can relive these bittersweet memories

These beautiful lines I write about you

Today, depression hit like a punch in my gut. Hard. Unexpected. Left out of breath and unable to move. The feeling of nothing slowly returns. I don’t eat for hours. I don’t get out of bed for hours. I lay there in the dark for hours wide awake. I don’t sleep. My soul is tired. The darkness I see exists within my soul and somehow I find that comforting.

I found purpose in the madness. Without the madness I possess I would not be here. I live because of it.

Let them judge you. It is easier to judge than ask. My dear, only small minds do so.

I get up

I go about my day

Still after all this time

Thoughts of you always get in the way

Anything anyone has ever told me could never be as hurtful as the things I’ve told myself