deepundergroundpoetry.com

Just Cry

I was told to cry
Let out the emotions pent up inside of me
When I'm with her I want to cry,
I fear I'm not enough for her and that one day my love for her will turn against me
When I'm without her I want to cry,
I fear I will never see her again, kiss her lips or feel her skin
I should be happy, she is everything I've been wanting for so long,
Finally, there is someone that is capable of loving me in oceans, just as I love
But what if my love for her is shallow and that is why I want to cry?
No, I love all of her, my love for her sinks into her skin, through the pores in her bones, and infects her heart like a poison dagger
But what is loving a woman is not something I am truly capable of?
No, her body is made of rose petals, her mind is made of pure blue sky and her hair is fresh cut grass

I look at some women the way I look at some men, with a slight pull and desire to pounce, I have for a long time but I have denied myself admittance into those feelings until I am alone with my fantasies, also dainty little things I would brush aside, nothing but some spilled ashes on the coffee table, easy to blow away and forget about as they dissolve out of existence
This was until she entered my mind,
Why did she enter my mind?
In this way,
In a forbidden way?
I have known her for so long and considered myself her protector, and her friend but she insisted on entering my mind in a way I have never considered her before,
A completely new version of her flitted across my unconscious thought, making her way into my dreams, floating into my bloodstream, speeding up the rhythm of my heart and increasing my production of stress hormones

Now I have her
And I am of course overjoyed,
Swimming in a cup overfilled with the love I have to offer her and the love that she has offered me, drowning in pools of love and soft lips, smooth skin, electrified tongues, and pulled hair,
And still, I feel as if I need to cry,
But why?
My face is hot, my eyes feel too dry, in thought, I am happy, though the sensations starting inside of me tell me I may be sad, or hopeless or scared or hungry or frightened or terrified or. Emotional
  I. Am. Not. Emotional.

Though she does say I have the soul of a poet
And others have said I have an old soul
Maybe my soul is a Frankenstein's monster of some lost depressed old poets that lost their way in life and needed a home to rebirth into the world, only they cat nap often and resurface only when their host surfaces near showing real emotion, real vulnerability

To tear back one's skin and expose the flesh underneath is a painful process, especially when the surface just under the thick layer of skinsuit is still healing bruises and cuts, closed but still scared and visible
What if my scars are too much for her and she backs away?
What if my callused skin is too rough and she leaves me because she just can't get comfortable?

What if my tears are completely hormone-based and my inquiries into why I need to cry are only getting me closer to falling off the cliff of that endless dark void that I often feel near enough to teeter but never enough to trip?
What if these insecurities and all of these mad thoughts are overwhelming to someone so pure and she backs away, leaving me in the shadows?
Am I strong enough to handle more heartbreak?
Is she strong enough to help me carry my baggage?

The last time I cried, I cried for him, and for myself, but that was so long ago can the tears even flow anymore?
I need to find out how to cry on demand so that I may fill up this fountain of youth I have built us and we may swim in it, together forever,
Is that what I really want?
Forever?
That is such a long time,
I suppose in my beliefs forever is simply until the last of one's neurons fire in a burst of pain, ecstasy or emptiness,

So until then, I think I want her,
Until my very last nerve sends me the signal of her touch by my bedside
This love is so intense that it clouds my judgment and nibbles the tips of my fingers, sending jolts of pain to my heart as I type for her, for me,
Hold me my love so that I may cry,
I will fill the fountain with the last of my tears for the ending and shed some more for the very beginning of what could be us.
Hold me so that I may cry
Maybe then I will find peace
And I can really enjoy and feel happiness in this love we have found together,
Please hold me so that I may cry
For love
c_soandso
Written by c_soandso
Published
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