“ words like wax drip out of my mouth, a burning uncertain mess “ poems i suppose For all I speak of empathy: For all I speak of empathy, My heart quickly grows cold In the same time it takes for two seasons, I have abandoned the fervor I once held Even for you, Oh Lord Has my heart grown tired and unwilling to go on? I am ever mutable, even I do not know who I love I do not know who I am I cannot remain in one form Like an ocean encased in a pretty glass vial, I wish to be free and ever changing Perhaps I feel too much that eventually, It is all too much. Apathetic, broken, bored, I sit here and wish To make something of myself. - - - - Ode against the Sun: I feel like the Stranger, Gun drawn from the insidious rays Of this naive sun I can’t tell if I want to point the gun At me, or you, or this intrusive light. It is a light I feel ashamed of hating Because all it has provided is love. It shines serenely and covers you In soft encouragement, and loving words, And kisses of warmth. I glare at it beyond its sight, Knowing I could never provide the same. I also know, if I could blot out the sun, I would. Even as the plants die and the oceans freeze, Even as the Sun’s only and worst crime, Was loving you. - - - - A Vampyre beckons: Darling, dearest, dead — take my hand Let us cavort under the moon Like wild things, a restless band With lust for life and death, blood’s great boon Flee the sun and prayers of the sane Abandon a life of stifling compromise I can be your ruination, and you, my bane. The moon drenched world free to us til sunrise. All I ask is, Viens à moi
poem #2 references the stranger by albert camus