who is this "He"?
whose name is spoken on the wind
the bringer of darkness in light.
The cause for my midday frustration
A life held between worlds
burning while being snuffed out
exhaustion, I share you
I am not alone in this
Begging for recognition
turning away from acceptance
pleading to be touched
daring people to try
Hot and crass
Cold and gentle
far too much
but never enough

Standing alone at both ends of the world
surrounded by the very same
its better to be alone
when we can't know if the other side agrees
it doesn't feel like she
is speaking words in her own voice
It is a He calling out to me
whomever that may be
whispers of emotion
nightfulls of hateful looks
dresses and masks
little boys and shadows
purple and black
red dripping into cream
No document of life and love makes sense
of the hidden meaning behind lying concepts
And at this time of peculiarity
we must make a choice
a direction to follow
a face to wear
the best advise is to follow your dreams
listen to your heart
when there are no fantastic synapses firing
when the blood has stopped pumping
there is nothing to find beyond your own fingers
All i have to go on is the specter of a figure
masculine enough to not ask for help
pretending he doesn't need anything
holding himself back from his own true desire
stopping the world
to hold himself back

I don't want to be like him
so why am i haunted?
how can I feel it burning a mandala around my essence
needing to be felt
without coming close
wanting to be grabbed
held too tight
to hide tears
and as i reach out
it pulls away
a teasing love
to scared to know
what stands behind my eyes
in case it might break in his hands
push me away
to keep your guilt at bay
because its better not to feel
than to know anymore pain

But who is this "He"?
that needs to be everything
the girl in the mirror doesn't want to care
but then the sun begins to set
your tears burn down my cheeks
you scold me for carrying the burden thrust upon me
bruised and stiff your knives cut me once more
each day i run from you
the worse the beating
and the scars I carry
are open for all to see
but no one cares if you did this or not
the blame is mine alone
if you don't show your mug around here

I have no one to tell
about being flogged by a spirit
Aren't you lucky, oh dark one
Angel of heaven,
that no one can see you
so you can break me
to justify a feeling you can't control

I stare blankly out of these windows
I reach out to touch you
thrusting me down for trying
I walk into each new tomorrow
unfeeling, rehashing anger
to inspire them to help me
to speak the words I can't form
to build something to stand on
made of hyperbole
hypothesized in a higher state of mind
unspoken concepts
silenced by ages of monotony

a partner in crime
someone to share with
a homestead, a haven
a place to see you
anything to know
your body is good enough
to do your mind's good works
my lust that I keep at bay
my mind silenced and tried
wants to know if this "He"
exists in this world
And if this he is you
maybe that she is me
what if we were WE...
what could that bring?