Tag Archives: misery

Twisted Game of Catch

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Twisted Game of Catch

Sometimes it seems like you are distancing yourself from me.
I know you want to be left alone, but being apart from you hurts

I am giving you an opportunity to go where you should have gone before

You are good to me; gifts and thoughtful gestures are symbolic of your care
An unspoken way of making up for the future’s inevitable parting

Thus

Your kindness chokes, your goodness is hollow
For the end is a vortex and I am being sucked in
There is no end

I say you never sound pleased to hear from me
You claim I am no bundle of joy
Truth: my “joy” is laced with hesitation ~
My senses tell me you are more cheerful when you make the call
More convenient, perhaps?

For you, it is a time of plentiful — is there a deeper meaning to this carnal yarn
I wonder?
Mine is a constant torment
Don’t hope, don’t yearn, I keep telling myself

Your presence fills me with excitement
But I’m tired of playing cool
Of controlling how I feel anymore

It’s a twisted game of catch
You pull and let go; I dance to your rhythm
I try to do the same, but fail
Understandably, you are better at this than me — a fledgling
in this game of ‘love’.

I have
so much to give.
But I am made to feel unworthy
Not good enough
Never good enough

I have loved alone, and in vain
There is no emptier feeling

I cannot hold your hand, don’t know what’s on your mind
“I wanna crawl inside  your head and spend the day there”
~ Bono’s right.
But you withdraw from me sometimes,
You open up a chasm between us
Remedied only by carnality

I cannot call you
Not without hesitation, fear
Oh, that frost in  your voice!

I’ve tried, my dearest.
Every single time,
the excitement is always in vain
— I have called at the wrong time
again

And then I withdraw, afraid you would hear eagerness turn to disappointment
Pretend cheer, mock happiness on top
Knife twisting, wounding, tearing gaping holes below
Tears near surface, threatening to spill
into rivulets of lonely misery

Much easier to be cold and distant
And the hurt won’t be so bad
Not worth it
this twisted game of catch

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I’VE always found it ironic how the most extreme of emotions inspire the poetic side of me. This was written some time back in the midst of personal turmoil.