Mine are the saddest of sullen eyes

The Saddest of Sullen Eyes
Summer, 2010

The beautiful never last long. This is the only relevant truth left for us to believe in; at the very least, it’s the only relevant truth I’m left to subscribe to. Transience only takes us as far as the stories we tell and the histories we share. In this, I hope to be a part of you somehow; situated in my quiet passing, open arms and heart laid bare. For the remaining days I have here, may my voice ring anonymously as the trail to love’s fleeting afterthought.

I only have until the fifteenth of May.

I hope you never find this and I hope you never find me. Never say my name, just remember what I had to say. This would be all. Mine are the saddest of sullen eyes.

I don't see you everyday

I chose to be alone for the sole reason of being near you. I never complained about how you were always in love with somebody else, neither did I bother to stake claim over what I felt was then unattainable. I stayed for you and no one else. I stayed close because I knew no better and sat myself closer for the part of you that I always felt would love me back.

Let’s never settle for short stops and near misses, you always knew what you meant to me.

Apartheid

It’s the colors of love that pull us apart; the vested interest keeps us hanging on and we’re best left with restraining orders.

Neutral coagulants

I will love you forever- if only for the sake of art.

Rest assured

It was wrong of me to ever doubt you. In anything and everything, it’ll always be you.

Only in this yearning

I hope you never find what you’re looking for.

Houses with secret gardens

My house’s silent hallways seem so much more peaceful when I’m alone. Every room and corner here breathes with that same serenity; knowing that everything in front of me is mine to spend an eternity with. From the view of my bedroom window, the world has never looked as haunting. You smiled to me and said, “we’re not the only ghosts here.”

Wilson

You have a name. Don’t say you don’t remember.

The social dances of socialist dancers

Your slow, arcing curvature lives on in the poetry of every lingering movement. In every inch of suspended motion, you speak without ever having said.

“Love…” and I quote, “will this be over soon?”

In the calmness of that moment, I stared at you and said: “I never knew limbs could bend that way. I never knew my will could bend like this and never break.”

Without a word, you let go of my trembling hands and continued dancing.

“By the time the sun sets over this amphitheater, we’d still be far from reaching the end. This dance, it never ends. Not for you, not for anyone.”

We have yet to end this awkward dance.

Our lady

Every martyred saint is a lover prior to death.

Commodity fetishes

We’ve made an artform of walking down opposite ends of the same street. The sidewalks here are conveyor belts and we’re the only people who’d prefer to walk backwards. Honestly, I’d like to think we walk backwards in hopes of meeting halfway.

For whatever it’s worth, you’re the best part of this production. I honestly believe you’re the prettiest part of this production line.

Autobahns

When all roads lead to the same place, the drive is always in circles. Close your windows, I know where you live.

On the verandas of empty houses

This place is haunting without you. I’ve been feeling this way since 1994.

Sailboats

Our bridges may burn as bright as the sun but they are sure to end as beautifully as the haziest of Atlantic sunsets.

At the end of November

For the life of me, I couldn’t just let this go.

Central states and peripheries

Have we become mothers to a brood of hungry fascist children? What then has become of our struggle against totality? This all amounts to nothing. If only for this, we all amount to nothing.

Mountainside empires

Ghost towns are peaceful, really. It’s the loneliness of the city that makes ghosts of us all. I can’t stand it. For a city of ghosts, we are by no means peaceful.

False starts

April and May, I’m always yours. This lifetime is ours to own.

...or so we thought

You weren’t who you said you were. That’s exactly who you are. I don’t know why I like you so much that way.

Open arms to clearer windows

Only when I wake to find you here do I realize that none of this is ever real.