Like A Broken Mirror

I don’t want this to be the way it ends. My frustration borders on the point of insanity, from the silence I’m surrounded by. Regardless of how I tell you in so many ways that I'll never leave your side. There are only so many words I can write for my feelings. It ends up coming out wrong; Like a broken mirror, lying in shards. It's a proclamation to the uncertainty I’m faced with when I remember how beautiful your smile was.

Yet I stand here in a solitude draped about my shoulders. I scream out loud, trying to shatter this cage that binds me, only to bend defeated by the weight of my sorrow. I suppose then that everything I ever admired turned out to be a false promise, a reflection of the things you never really understood.

I long for the day in which all I am is replaced by all that I want to be. Yet we are never truly free in our flaws. No matter how much we cut away, we replace the things that we perceive as burdens, only to turn out to be our greatest strengths. I won’t lie anymore to the reality of how things played out.

I am a romantic, a breed slowly dying in a cold world. Where passion is misinterpreted as obsession or violent. A pacifist whom belief’s in the power of words, over that of might. Where peace can be attained not by the blood spilled, but from what ideal we hold dear.

I am a prankster and a flirt. Mischievously bright eyes lit by the flames of my soul. A poet that has run out of words. I cant remember the last time I've said "I love you". It seemed like an eternity where I felt a passion burning deep in my heart, allowing me to remember that I could speak them. I am corrupted. A perversion runs deep in my blood, while you may see this as a flaw, it beckons to me as a change that life inflicts on all people.

Truly can you name a lover of women or men whom has not reached a border where new experiences reach out to them. Grapple them by the things in which were once conceived as taboo, only to now be embraced openly as normal.

The truth of the matter is, all things change. All people grow and mature; we are caterpillars. Every so often a new butterfly is born, can you pave the road that it's change has been conspired from? All cards dealt must eventually be played. Here they lay, amongst the broken hopes that scatter this empty dream, the lost desires that never were fit to live. While I may not be a perfect man in your mind, a caliber beyond any other. I realize that to me, I am worthy of any great beauty this world is fit to give. Love, passion, spiritual enlightment.

Quite simply, when asked who I am:

I am me.