Sometimes it feels as though
analyzing your emotional experiences
strips them of their beauty,
both the raw pain
and brilliant glory.
The longer I throw psychology
at my ravished broken heart,
the more hollow and depressing
these experiences feel.
Who’s to say what is delusion
and what is actually real?
I have backed myself into a corner
and there’s no way I’ll ever win:
I yearn to experience something deeply,
but the depths just lead to sin.
I cry out for stability
but constantly search
for something to move me.
Acceptance feels impossible
in the face of unfulfilled dreams.
“Transform the energy!” they say,
as if somehow that will redeem you,
as if to magically rid you of the heartache
that both satisfies and starves you.
Does everyone have their own
that afflicts their miserable side
for the rest of their goddamned life?
here is mine:
A love just out of reach
throughout all space and time.