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The Darkest Night

Byjack
The Darkest Night

Ice fills my heart

When I think of the darkest night

Darkness

Drunk confusion

Was it worth it

To take the soft girl

And break her soul

That night

Leave her

Exposed

Vignette on the bed like a polaroid

Did you grin and smile

Lamplight on your face

On the parking lot

Beer in hand

While your friends

Moved on to the next party

 

In this poem I’m letting myself feel and process feelings of deep shock, dissociation, anger, fear, visceral graphic-ness and endless night.

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The Bubble

Byjack
The Bubble

Our words to each other

Are poor feeble tools

Unwieldy, inefficient, inaccurate

Yet they built something

We fumbled yes

It’s part of our practice

And make me feel hope

That when we meet

We find ourselves

In a place where all else disappears

Except the two of us

Our minds

Our emotions

Mixing

Like water in a bowl

A place where words dissolve

Like mints

Into their true feelings

And our minds as one

Find a place

Outside space and time

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A Strange New Place

Byjack
A Strange New Place

I got to a strange new place today

On the stop right after Heartbreak Hotel

Where I abandoned the dream girl

Who looked at me with soft eyes

In this strange new place

I found a place for the desire to blossom

To bloom without restraint

But the voice it spoke in

Didn’t need to be sexy and alluring

But a steady voice

They spoke of kindness and safety

A soft expression of that flamboyant love

The one the understood

That pain was part of the cage

Pain too hard too dark

For the mind to see any desire

As an invitation to an adventure

Rather than a prison

Of violence and terror

So hopeless

It cannot be faced

What a strange new place

Where the shamed can be accepted

Silently

Quietly

Letting themselves come to the surface in new ways

Passion as unwavering supportiveness

Fantasy as easygoing humor and happiness

 

This poem is about realizing that sexual love can be beautiful, adventurous, and happy. It doesn’t need to be suppressed. Yet it also can feel the pain of trauma, and be expressed as deep caring and supportiveness. It’s a strange new place because I cannot wrap my head around how it works even though it feels right and true.

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Silence Speaks In Terrible Ways

Byjack
Silence Speaks In Terrible Ways

She told me she thought I wouldn’t notice

When she only replied to a handful of things

Of a series of long letters I wrote

How could I not notice

When I spend an hour

Pouring my heart out

Waiting every second of the day

For a response

She tells me she likes it when I write long letters

But I have grown wary of them

When I know

Most of it

Will never receive a response

She probably thinks that no response is better than a bad response

But silence is a response

It’s a blank check

For the deepest fears

And paranoia

Lurking in your brain

Letting your mind fill in the spaces

With explanations

For why the reason why the truth was too hard to say

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Cardioid Dreams

Byjack
Cardioid Dreams

The is one thing

That keeps me from showing everything to her

The true me

All the parts I hide from other people

Is the part of me

I’ve tried to reject

To hide inside

To ignore

She says it makes her want to throw up

That some things are better hidden

And I worry

If she knows

How I dream of her warm skin touching mine

Of raw passion like a hunger

That can’t be satisfied

Until there is nothing

Between us

Not even air

I can’t tell

Where her body ends and mine begins

Our hearts like

Two djembe drums

Under a desert sand

Beating in our veins

Our breath

Like the sound of trees

Swaying in the wind

I don’t want to hide

But if she knows

Will she would see me anew

A monster

And would her love flicker and go out

Extinguished by disgust

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What If It Wasn’t Real

Byjack
What If It Wasn’t Real

She used to message me and beg me to get on to play
I thought she needed me then
Loved spending time together
We would joke
And talk about life
Little things
These days she plays
Without me
It’s me who asks
And she reluctantly accepts
In the game, she’s all anger and frustration
She hates the game
She hates the teammates
She hates me
And she hates herself
She denied that she ever had fun with me today
Says she can’t remember the last time we played
That I annoy her
That we need to win if we play
That we just don’t work together
“I like small talk,” she says about her new friends
“We are too busy asking about favorite colors”
“For me to be mad”
I remember a time we asked each other our favorite colors
I wonder if it was less special than I thought
Or if her new friends are more special than me
Its doubt that destroys love
Not hate or anger
Doubt eating away at a foundation so strong
It promised forever
Today I worry
If I left
Would she even notice
Over the laughter
Of her new friends

This poem is about feeling like what you thought you both cherished, only you actually cherished. That there wasn’t a connection at the level that I originally thought.

If that is actually true, I don’t feel heartbroken. Only depressed. So incredibly disappointed that everything was not as special as I thought it was. It takes me back to my dark places, wondering if anyone could truly love me.

Part of me knows it’s more complicated than that. That there is still hope for us. Still hope for me.

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To Explore Love

Byjack
Who She Is For Me

When I’m with her

I feel I can be so ugly

So weak

So bad

So hurtful

And yet I feel safe

Like I can stop checking

Her face for signs of anger

Stop feeling ashamed, worried

It surprises me how calm I feel

When my mask is off around her

Her acceptance like a balm for my soul

Her love can

Make her helpless

Like the most beautiful creature

So vulnerable

She would endure

Pain if it means my pleasure

I like to explore life

And uncover it’s discoveries

Now I can have someone to share them with

It’s like

She can hear music in my mind

Of imagination, of beautiful ideas, of glory

And she smiles at me

Like we have a joke only we know

When I am struck with pain

Like an animal looking for its home

I seek her warmth

And her love is like a blanket

I can snuggle deep within

Protected from the world

Sometimes, we are just laughing

She’s shining as brightly as a star

It’s like the kind fun

You only find

As a kid on a playground

When she is hurting

I want to take her pain

Spread it around

So I can see her smile again

She is strong-willed

And I’m grinning

When she leads me by the hand

And shows me the world

Through her eyes

And all I can think sometimes

Is how much I love her

I Was Wondering What Would Happen If

I feel open

Like a canvas ready for paint

No future

No expectations

No obligations

Only action

Or no action

I didn’t pick up the phone

Except for the time

When I really felt like it

When I open my mouth

My words are driven

By the moment

In the freedom

Of saying fuck it

I’ll do what I feel like

I dream at night

For a relaxed afternoon

Sipping tea

And beauty

Both sweet and ordinary

When when I’m done wondering

We pass on

With happy memories

Like the lasting sweetness

Of a candy

Melted in your mouth

These two poems are comparing the feelings I have for two things – the girl who I want to wait for, and the experience of dating around that I want to explore in the meantime. I was trying to reconcile them and understand how they can coexist.

Some thoughts:

  • I used to think I had to be super upfront about not wanting anything serious when dating. I don’t think so anymore. I will only explain if asked by the girl or if there comes a time where I feel I need to explain it (she is getting too invested). Most girls don’t even care until they develop feelings since they have an abundance of men.
  • I used to reach out to people even when I didn’t want to (usually because I felt guilt since I knew the girl liked me and I didn’t want to hurt her/lose her). I’m not gonna do that anymore. I’ll basically treat them like guy friends. If there is something I want to say, or do with them, I will reach out. Otherwise, I’ll say nothing, make no effort.
  • I’m afraid that I will mess up the beautiful connection I have with the girl I am waiting for by dating. I decided to stop pushing down that fear. It is happening for a good reason. As soon as I feel scared, unsafe, or distracted I should just stop dating and refocus on her. I never went into this to replace her and I should keep her as my top priority.
  • I worry about meeting women so attractive I will forget about the girl I am waiting for. Honestly, this might happen at first, but I think at the end of the day, personality matters much much more to me. I think I would only be distracted by looks because I haven’t dated before. As long as someone is attractive ENOUGH, if I love them, they will be the most beautiful woman in the world to me.
  • Overall, I should worry less about hurting women since they aren’t like men (have only one or two women to talk to). They usually have lots of men and could care less if I stopped talking to them. I can still be compassionate without overcompensating (for my fear of being an asshole).
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Happy Without Me

Byjack
Happy Without Me

I’m scared

That you will like him

More than you ever liked me

That he will see your beauty want to win you over

Just like how I felt

When I first heard your voice

In a way,

I’m glad that I feel the anger and desperation

That it makes me feel the passion again

Want you to be mine

But I remember another time

When I felt like I was left behind for someone better

That I felt not good enough

And I wonder if you would like someone new

Like the first bite of an apple

Before the taste grows boring in your mouth

Sometimes I’m confused

Whether I’m pushing or pulling

Like the dream I had about you sitting next to me on a train

Your curls framing your face

So warm

Even with the beautiful view outside

I only had eyes for you

And the morning when I wondered what it would be like

To treat dating like another adventure

A new face every day

A new smile

Do you ever wonder the same?

Have you already felt so?

Did you wonder today?

When forget to ask me

If I still felt sick

 

This poem is about the painful feeling of desperation and jealousy when you are not always the center of someone’s world. Beyond the feeling is the passion you feel when you remember how desirable someone is.

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Water In the Basement

Byjack
Water in the Basement

There was water in the basement today

My mom handed me a garbage bag

To throw away things

That we couldn’t wash

The saddest thing

Was a cardboard sculpture of myself

Because I knew

It was sodden and sad

Paper hair plastered on the side

Like a sad version of a bad hair day

I remembered when it was new

When my art professor told us about Chris Gilmour

The sculptor who used cardboard instead of stone

Intricate cars and motorcyles

Precisely detailed in warm brown

And gave us the assignment to create a sculpture of ourselves

But my sculpture

Wasn’t like Gilmour’s at all

It was all messy cardboard

Hot glued together

It didn’t look like me

But it felt like me

When I looked into the eyes

I remembered the way I felt

My mind was all stars and night and imagination

Some part of me

Is afraid to let it go

It’s a familiar sad feeling

Like what I felt when I let go of the girl I loved

Only

This time

The person I’m letting go of

Is the person

Who made the sculpture

Years ago

When I look at this sculpture that I made in wood and mixed media class, I remember what I felt in college. So young and full of promise. That I could be anything, do anything. That I didn’t have to think about the rest of my life. Part of me always wants to go back. And it is hard to admit that that part of my life is over.

I think about this when I wait for nighttime. It is nighttime when I will see how things are going to unfold. I hope she will show me her vulnerable side, her emotional side again. The parts of her that I knew I needed in my life when I first met her. But I know, I cannot force her to be that person for me. That there is a possibility, that she won’t. That she will be closed and I’m so sad that I may have to say goodbye to the person I was when I was in love with her.

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In The Wreckage

Byjack
In The Wreckage

As I sit in the wreckage of my life

The pieces, strewn about the floor around my feet

I wonder

Has she read my messages

Does she now know

That it was all a misunderstanding

And that only by leaving

Did I finally draw out the truth

That could have prevented everything

I wonder what will happen next

And how I can stand up again

When all I want to do

Is lie on the ground

Curled up

Like a hibernating bear

Waiting for the summer