You are so important to us, David, we only want for your happiness,
Tell it again my dear, sweet love of my imagination, tell me again,
What's that? What little time we have, you say? Talk to me of you, my dear, sweet love...
![[-]](https://gayspeak.com/images/duende_v3_local/collapse.png)
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"Tell it again my dear, sweet love of my imagination" OMG hope you do not have a fantasy lover like I have! So unrewarding.
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If you don't love yourself, I will be forced to do so,
Or so you seem to wish, I do not even know you do,
This perspective of mine is only in your dreams, David...
"David, I will do anything that is possible to make you happy, but, I cannot - "
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Sometimes I can be venomous, almost as much as you,
Yes, oh yes, sometimes I can break your words like glass,
Don't remind me, I've understated your heart for too long...
Vortexes are all we speak in these days, we are alzheimers,
Sometimes I'm overpowering, makes you want to overpower me,
I get it, go ahead, your little scare's in vain... Huh? What?
No. No, no, no, no.
Please, I beg of you, don't abandon me now, forgive me,
I'm sorry I was mistakenly your better, don't leave me now,
Don't leave me here with my broken record playing, please...
...Please, still love me.
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the latest poem is an accurate description of most of my relationships and their demises so far, and having realised my mistakes far too late. it was also inspired by imagery used in P!nk's latest album Funhouse, an album i have found helpful in such times, particularly in the songs I Don't Believe You, Please Don't Leave Me and Glitter In The Air. anyways, this is one i am particularly proud of, so... yeah =]
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hehehe, just noticed ya "relaxed" with that "We Are Alzheimers (Sometimes)" running thru ya so must be the other times now... good for you!
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The usual routine; I am broken glass and you walk upon me,
Your heel the Eve to my serpent, and God knew I would bite you,
He foretold it in that oh-so conveniently misquoted book of his.
Sometimes I feel like this "or lack thereof" is meant to be.
Inspiration sinks deep when it comes from newborn enemies I myself bore,
You came, but the new life promised sure doesn't fertilise here, not meant to,
Ah, me and my childish analogies, someday I won't have to be proven right.
Sometimes I feel like this "or lack thereof" is meant to be.
Stop it, STOP IT, your handwriting's as shaky as your loudening voice,
These stolen poems will be thrown out with you, when you are finally gone,
You stole them from his eyes, and notice how simple they are becoming...
...He doesn't know that he inspires you, so be thankful...
...Sometimes these "or lack thereof's" are meant to be. Sometimes.
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I forgot to name the one above. It's called "Hardly..."
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For such a young man, you have an incredibly creative mind and without patronising you and your work
I find it all so, dare I use the word, but "Brilliant"
I do so hope you do something with all of this
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