A different source of pain.

I had a surprise waiting for me when I woke up this morning. A text from Alex saying that she was being cheated on. So like most mornings, I woke up in pain, but this pain was different. It was pain from knowing that someone I deeply care about was hurting.

Normally I'd be cautious to make sure I say things that aren't going to make her annoyed with me. And because of lately, things that don't make me give too much of myself so I don't get hurt. But I didn't care about those things anymore.

I jumped right in. She was in pain, I wanted to do anything I could to help her. All kinds of crazy ideas flew through my head, the craziest being going to Ohio and spending time with her. I thought of that one, because I thought I could take care of her in person and there's not much I can do from here.

As the conversation went on, I did get a little worried that I was putting too much of myself in this. Not like I thought I'd fall back in love with her, but just that I didn't want to become overbearing and get rejected by her for trying to help again.

But then I thought of the pain she was in, and I actually got teary eyed. I care about Alex more than anyone, and I want her to be happy more than I want to be happy. I'm just a bitter guy who's given up on everything, and I believe Alex, only 18, still has a chance to be happy for real.

So I didn't care anymore about if she rejected me and I got hurt. If my pain meant she felt any better, then I was okay with that. But until then, I said fuck Brian and whoever else. I'm not gonna be jealous of them today. I'm gonna kick them out of the picture, and be the one that takes care of Alex.

That's what I want to do; take care of her.

But I guess my willingness to help her could only go so far.She didn't want to talk to me anymore. As much I want her to feel better, it didn't keep me from being hurt. I'm just not good enough to take care of her, and she doesn't need me as much as I need her.

Since I don't work today, I don't know what I'll do. I kind of planned on sitting around, and trying to feel nothing. Being rejected again kind of forced me to come up with a new plan. I guess I get to be in pain today some more.




I'm in a location that keeps me from being able to save my draft, a portapottie that's not big enough to catch this pile I'm about to lay. If she could come back to me, I'd remember something that I meant to say something; something to say at all.


My glasses don't fit anymore, because my head's getting too big from all of the shouting people do. This is just the hair laying on top of me; empty to be blessed and not blessed enough to be empty. Breasts for flexing. I'm reading to confess.


I'm in love with someone that I hate, and if I don't come up with a fix soon, I'll never be able to finish this plate. Throwing up sounds like a better plan, so put some words in my mouth so they don't mean anything. One of these days, I'll die and that'll be a nice day.


It's not that I'm ashamed to weep out loud, but if drinking keeps me from feeling alive, then consider me the next alcoholic in my family. A customary gutter we live in, and a climax that's yet to begin, "I need out." An attraction on the heels of feeling destined to feel this way forever. 


So if I'm feeling your wounds, the least you could do is keep dancing with my shadow on the floor. My curse is that my fingers can't reach out to you, and yours can't calm my nerves as they produce that familiar motion below the belt. 


Am I the only one? Pulling out a queer to feel some kind of new connection, and being sought out to suck on something new. Listen through the door, another another kind of attack that I can't deflect. 


There is no place for these kind of guys with a half smile that grandma appreciates when I come over. It's just that for some time, these lips seem to fall in place when I'm trying to achieve some good looks from my old grandads old photograph. There will be no more invisible trains. If you want to die, then you have to step in front of a real one.


A circus tent in all the folding's. An elephant in a coffin fit for a man. I could write all day and night, but if I have no one to talk to, then I'm certain there's definitely no end in sight. Barely held together by these own hands that used to be alive; holding hands was something we used to try achieve being kept apart by different places in a life long relationship. Life long enough for someone who doesn't want to live.


I'm wrapped up in these imaginative worlds with just one imaginary friend. So when I finally do it, I'll leave the earth when the earth leaves you. No friend is good enough to take the charge, and begin to sway. There's no girl good enough to love me that I can't pay.