i'm not being weak but seriously

what does it mean to love?

For the sake of the other

to one's self upkeep

by the other's doing

to slumber and lose sleep

to dig to the surface

of what one's self least scratch

to the soul of the other

incongruously match

To wound and to pain

through laughter and pleasure

to leave it to abandon

with every mean and measure

To love is to polish

with patience and tenacity

that tarnish that grows

on the other's assumed reciprocity

journey

it is effective

as it is essential

to plan an epic duck

to base your departure
on that  last little
 ounce of luck

to relieve one's self

from the ties

that routine progressively pulls

to rid one's self

of familiar commoners,

charlatans and fools

a space like no other

in its necessary middle

living in limbo's

solving

rhyme with riddle

a challenge

that when completed

assuages all temporary needs

a nuisance that also

one's demons feeds

And one day these
heres and theres will add up
to a life less ordinary
when everyone else's fed up.

that day one'll say
with conviction "Hooray!
i decided one day to just go"

oblivion

such a savior he was

that i did not even know

that i needed saving.

that he did not know he was

saving me

Before

as though i had had a lobotomy

any lover that i'd once manically adored

with flesh and conscience

became inconsequential

and no more

a sly trick of my boundless imaginings

as ever real.

a trek tireless

For if one were to cease

if one were to evaporate

to fold

to ashen

to loose one's grip

one would fall from the grace of one's grace.

one would wilt, perish

and

de

com

pose
and putrify

into the nothingness of one's non-existance

as though one never was

and therefore

unwarranted, ludicrous and excessive even in concept(ion)

One awakes

reluctantly

this most miserable pointless morrow

exclusively

for the sake

of one's own sake

hot air

if thee

thyself detest

well,