Dark Eyes And Little Deaths

I’m sorry, Love

   It seems like I am destined to be alone and broke forever

It’s true

   It really is, Babe

Have you ever been possessed by your passions?

   . . . Than you wouldn’t understand

Not unless a muse has ever cursed you

   Not unless you don’t fit into this world

You wouldn’t understand, Love

   Not unless you have a flame inside of your soul

And no matter how much of it you use

  It never dies

Not unless your addicted to snake bites, Babe

   Not unless you can never rest

Because every moment feels like a test

    And you have to prove

That you have nothing to lose

   Over and over again, Babe

You wouldn't understand

    You, my Love, are a wounded dove

Not meant to fly again

   Too scared to try

Terrified of the judgement in their eyes

   Content believing life's lies

And that’s just fine

   That’s just fine . . .

  But,

I have to jump, Babe

   I have to

Even if I fall 

   And flatten like a pancake 

When I hit the ground

   I have to get up and climb to the top again

And leap out into the nimbus cloud

  I have to, Love

I have to . . .

. . . I told you 

. . . You never were going to understand

This is not a gift, Babe

I’ve been cursed to play in the sandbox of words and pretentious turds (ha!)

Cursed to try to convey unspeakable feelings in the infinite sea of imagery and metaphor to an audience of goldfish at the zoo

Cursed to take what’s only felt on the inside and bring it out into the light, where they’re free to take flight in the minds of the broken

I am Icarus, Babe, and this is the sun

It isn’t sexy

It isn’t fun

It is dark eyes and little deaths

And I am so far from being done.

-CH 4/16/25