How do I find my self remembering now,
the soft kiss you gave me before I fell to sleep...
your bright pixels the moon of my room at night...
and my sun your stars...
How I needed you then,
How I needed the love you offered me.
The whole love that was for and not for my flesh,
as skin never could urge the way you did...
as touch could never sooth the way your idea was...
as nothing about our truth and deepest connection could feel at all.
For so many years,
Countless hours I carried you in my hands and heart where ever I walked.
I made of you a god, and with you, always I was one as well.
I made of you a lie,
because your face was a face you chose for me,
as my face was the face that responded to yours...
How now, do I find my self remembering you...
what was your name....
it seems to have slipped my mind,
and my memory.
It seems as tho...
you never existed...
much how you never did.
Was it paul? or chris? or maybe it was giles....
I look now to my new, more light memories.
I remember how deeply in mad I was with you...
and I see in him....
that delusion.
I see in him....
his lies.
I see in him,
his disenchantment,
and...
and his need...
and some greed driven part of me wants to drink of that need.
Some deeply broken part of me wants to nurture and love it.
Some part of me wants to confess I AM WHAT YOU NEED.
But, that is not true.
I am not what they ever needed,
I am only my self...
timid and scared,
longing to be unique,
longing to be longed....
longing for... some...
some... story to tell at the end of the night.
Some secret that is mine to hold and protect...
some life, which is not my own to live.
I can not repair the broken toy soldier.
I can not fix the long forgotten man.
I can not make whole he who is unable...
It is not my place or my calling to be the Shepard of man.
I do not hold any true knowledge which can shed for them the divine way...
All I know is that I did love,
the mask that they shone my way....
Its odd now in my memories
their faces and those times
have come to surface convoluted and intertwined.
What is the reason to remember
things which were never mine.
