a penchant for the overly complicated,
I guess that's why
I desire to be dominated
just tell me what you fucking want
and do it straightforward,
no fraudulent fronts
back and forth
my mind broken, it needs
to succumb, your force
but it's not in the way, you think
I'm not some game or "role play" twink
you've gotta have heart
and you must feel love
and if you can feed my starved psyche
then you'll see, I'm yours
and I will never get enough
of you, your story,
your sadness and glory
your faults, your flaws
your twists and turns,
in me, you will find
the perfect combination of "behold" and "burn"
as in a fire, burning bright, your yearn
some might say, "just a delusional fool"
the kind, made of love,
blind and stupid, "I'll never learn"
the lessons that keep haunting me,
again and again,
all the faces, once past
that I know, in sadness, I will not
once more, see
to feel such love
but cannot feel it, flowing back,
a malady that torments my mind,
kind of good, but somewhat delicately deranged
I only know, what I can feel for you
but never understand that you
might feel it back, for me, too
and so I go to extremes to try
to come to terms
with what lies behind my eyes
a mind in shards,
a "heart of glass",
for most they'll say,
"yeah, I'll take a pass"...
to much work and too much pain
inside "too damaged",
marked by the strain
of just trying to make sense
of a non sensible world
you're fucked from the get go,
if can't even be sure,
if you're either a boy, or a girl
got the parts and look of a man
but the psyche, "fragile, vulnerable"
like the archetype. "the girl"
just to "stand by her man"
yeah, that's "old school",
but remember, I'm a fucking fool
whose belief that there was
a "one and only",
has left me aged, and alone,
in my lonely
ness, that hurts and throbs, like hell
some of us, not the same story,
not the ones that we wanted, but got
when dreams, they never come true,
they say you gotta give
and fight for what you want
i've done it and tried
and time and again, I have died.
but exactly, what for?
to watch another beautiful face,
pass by, walk away, part my front door
yes, there are times,
I just don't think, I can take it anymore
what's left to become,
once you've already been
an utter failure and a whore?
at life, at success
tired of being a god damned mess
but once you know
the damage, "has been", done
where do you run, for escape,
once "no fun"
all the things you thought
the ones who came not to give,
the ones who offered, tell me
how to feel and how to heal
but didn't stick around
once I could not, at their alter,
of "tossed off cliche'" bullshit, kneel
some, I suppose, are just "too real"
to belong here, the banished
from "the straight, even keel"
the ones that just want to think
trust me, that's a sure invitation to hell
the hell of being awake and "wide"
open to seeing all the game
and the lies
but fuck me, (you won't)
for believing, some man, soul, out there
who could handle me, want to be free
to drown in the love, "unwavering"
devotion, this ocean of heart
that swims and soars,
in the hope and possibility of "we"
(found and lost,
he slips, forever, through my hands)
I guess I'm just a "born to walk alone"
(but oh, what I wouldn't give, to dare,
just once, this time, please be, prove me, finally, wrong)
bowen hart roselli
31 march 2020
the realm of the poetic.
prisoner of the psyche and the inescapable. heart.