Split Identity

Well I can't believe what I've done
Unlock the door to my secret place
thrust onto me with arrows to my heart
the inevitable, my soul's ripped apart

Fascination once again controls me
It's like a wish, a dream, a nightmare-before me
The fears of the joy torture my emotion
Why can't this bliss last forever more?

And I, can't stand the thought of life
spent without your wicked eyes
spent without our precious fights
spent without your tainted lies
spent without a restless night

I dwell upon the moment when you beg for a kiss
hesitation...I know what it is
It runs in circles in my mind
Which man to blame in me? I'll never find...

And I, can't stand the thought of life
spent without your wicked eyes
spent without our precious fights
spent without your tainted lies
spent without a restless night
spent without your love in mine...

Share this poison with me...

*Razed in Black


Time.

A lot of time.

Throwing myself into what I do best. Work. There was always something that needed done. There were plenty of tasks I could put my hands and muscle to. There was never a lack of it around here. It filled my days and nights. If I was willing to do it .. there was something to do. I barely slept. Sleeping was time to think. Thinking was not in my best interest.

Not a line I usually use.

Not a place I usually find myself. Where thinking can not solve. Where going over and over something does not help. Where searching around inside myself just does not a damn bit of good except to make me feel insane.

That left .. work.

And I was getting a lot done. Half of what I needed to get done before the move North. I was far ahead of schedule and well on my way to being prepared long before I needed to be. Of course .. any time I did that there were a myriad of things that happened that made it inconsequential.

I was leaning on the kaiila pen rails .. one boot suspended with the heel braced when I was hit .. tackled with a hug. That was the first layer peeled away.

How many layers had I been able to brick up? More than she was able to get through. It breaks my heart to stand on the other side of the wall and watch her tear her fingers apart. I wish I could reach across and make it all .. different. I want to reach .. to feel again that connection. What happens when I feel her .. when I know. When I am so sure and so elated. When she enters my veins like a blessed memory of an epic high. A rush that takes me places I forgot I had the ability to go. That reveals things I forgot I believed in. It is mental .. it is physical ... it is spiritual .... it is a drug. I think it is natural .. but part of me accuses it of being synthetic .. crafted and designed purely for my demise.

But there is only part of me that wishes to do so. To find that again. The other part of me is feeling a little safer .. a little more comfortable ... a little more stable .... on this side of the wall.

The wall is normal for me. The other is not. The wall is known. The feelings .. are the unknown. The safety is the well worn path of habitual apathy. The emotions are heights and depths and chaotic rainbows of color that do not stay within their appointed lines of necessary logic. They bleed and retch their internal angst all over my well arranged rules like acid on organic material .. eating away at the very fabric of my time and space and opening up to me the universe of possibilities. Possibilities that do not make me feel better .. do not give me my illusion of control. Instead they spell out how insignificant I really am. How easily my own heartache and pain is orchestrated by powers beyond my control. How impossible it is to build enough walls .. to build them high enough ... to remain in such denial of reality.

Realities of guttural moanings and seeping sores .. fevered weeping and the stench of septic disease that rots to my very bones. My own lies .. lies of others I have built upon. The upheaval of all that I know and worship ... as the once solid place I stood upon breaks apart and crumbles beneath the Sky. A Sky I am more than comfortable to hate .. despise ... and respect for the sadistic gestures it has .. blessed ... upon me.

I fight for my beliefs .. my lies. My security. My comfort.

At my own expense.

At her expense.

I go on about my feelings .. my comfort .. my heart ... and yet I barely recognize what I am doing to her. What it feels like to be her .. to deal with me. To deal with my inconsistencies. My seeming inarguable logic. How easy it would be for her to step aside and wait for me to figure all this out .. or even walk away completely. And yet she does not .. perhaps she knows that space ... is the worst thing for any of my relationships. No matter what I claim.

It leaves me .. torn in two. This war within.

And I do not know which man ... will win.