*Father, they tell me you are everywhere,
Why is it that I can not find you?
These years brought with them an invisible darkness that consumes my soul,
I was hoping you could fix me,

Father, do you not recognize me?
My voice is not as sweet as it used to be, is it?
I admit it has turned rough from the cold nights I spent in all the wrong places,
They were not my home,
I was hoping you'd be the home I needed,

Father, do you hear me?
There is no peace when I sink my pillow and no peace when I rise from it,
The sun and moon circle my eyes while I remain impartial to them,
I fear my appetite to live is not one I can relay on,
But father, I would like to live,
I was hoping you'd sustain me,

Father, I am lost,
I was hoping if I found you then perhaps I could find me.*

~M~

AFTER TOMORROW

*How dare they, the hours?
To grow into years that passed without notice,
How do I make up for the wasted time I didn't know was wasted?
See, I counted my days, but nothing in my days counted,
Oh, to be young and impatient,

For a while, I had dared for tomorrow to arrive,
But now that it is here I wish that I hadn't,
It crafts my regrets while it mocks my decisions,
"What now?", It laughs,
"Was it all that you expected?
Are you ready to face the reality of your fading existence?
Because you are, indeed, fading,
Have you realized that you're not merely part of the world but also made of it?
That you will age and rot like all things without exception?

Now do you understand?
Now do you feel it?
Your youth that's liquid gold quickly dripping down your fingers?
You've asked for tomorrow and here I am summoned,
So foolish child, answer me this question,
Are you ready for what comes after?"

~M~*
@fortheeccentric

THOUGHTS OF A YOUNG MAN

*Are we all doomed to get a taste of our parents curse?
To become part of the ripple effect and be bruised by it?
Father, do I have no choice but to become a victim of the world and the aggressor of my own home?
Mother, am I destined to carry the weight of a thousand cries after having cried a thousand times?

I ask you both...Who might I be if not your son?

~M~*
@fortheeccentric

*It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it; but the young know they are wretched for they are full of the truthless ideal which have been instilled into them, and each time they come in contact with the real, they are bruised and wounded. It looks as if they were victims of a conspiracy; for the books they read, ideal by the necessity of selection, and the conversation of their elders, who look back upon the past through a rosy haze of forgetfulness, prepare them for an unreal life. They must discover for themselves that all they have read and all they have been told are lies, lies, lies; and each discovery is another nail driven into the body on the cross of life.

~W. Somerset Maugham*~
@fortheeccentric

ONLY A SOUL
*We have promised only our souls to each other,
It souldn't be surprising that I wake up from your nightmares and you daydream of my future,
That you can hear my tears fall and I can feel your heart breaking,
But the outsiders, they look at us in awe and I wonder, "Don't they know?"
"Don't they know that we're tied by the burdens we've exchanged?"

I have built myself into your confessional, and you into mine,
You take my cries and drown them in all the novel ways you find to love me,
And so we have made sadness the neighbor we pretend we can't hear the door knock's of,

You turn 9, 17, 23, 29 and all the ages in-between in days we spend together,
And when the night ends you tell me you often feel like a finely tailored suit,
A Costume made long ago when the world asked of you a man when you were just a boy,
And I tell you that here, in our home, we need no fancy attires,

Some days when the cold comes to visit as it does unfailingly,
I search between the gaps of your words for a sound that triggers a familiar pain,
For a reason to wage war with my weapon pointed at both of us,
For a reason to doubt this too-good thing we've built,
You look at me with recognition,
And you tell me that here, in our home, we don't look for things that don't exist,

We have promised only our souls to each other,
Only our souls....and nothing more.

~M~*
@fortheeccentric

*"Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living."

~Jonathan Safran Foer*~

@fortheeccentric

*What does it mean to live a good life? What does it mean to live a meaningful one? Does the former imply the latter or the latter the former? Is there a definition for either and steps on how to get there? Or are these terms arbitrary? Open to the messy playground that is the human mind? Can one’s life be judged through the lens of another and would such judgment hold any weight? Or is it all subjective? Is it all under the umbrella of “What’s good or meaningful to me might or might not be to you and it matters not either way”? I guess all this is to ask;
How do we measure the outcome of our existence?

~M~*
@fortheeccentric

*Is it possible to become your dream?
To somehow catch that decieving ever-distant cloak and wear it?
To finally become the enemy of your weaknesses?
To embody years of hopes and wishes?
To be the person unrecognizably enviable by your present self?

Oh, could we ever?
And will we then be enough?

~M~*
@fortheeccentric

*Most of us are merely waiting for death; and some of us are hoping it arrives early.

~M~*
@fortheeccentric

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