The tedious job of saying I love you (again)
It is like moving a mountain
Like herding a cat
Like a job for a mad man
I would never do that
Again
It is like having exposed my naked butt out a window
Like drawing a circle freehand.
I could eventually get it right but why bother
And what for, when I would be just as content to merely doodle for ever and ever from now on to the end of all days?
It is like forcing a corn out from my rock solid heart
Like a stake through the safety
And the freedom of being alone.
Why do you wish me to come to the light? Why do you force me to hurt you? Why would you tip this carefully put up appearence of balance, why couldn`t you stay a stranger and be happier for it? You would have me be pretty and behave and stay civil. You would have me remember birthdays and cats names and relatives allergies. You would have me say things like how are you and have you had lunch and where did you put the big spoon with the duck on the handle. You would have me learn how not to offend you through a stupid political comment. You would give me the weapons to hurt you. Show me your heel and hand me the sword in a glance. You would make me control my furies and be civil and lovely. But I am angry and I want to allow it to fester. Rage moves the world not the beastly appearance of romance. Be sweet be a dear walk away while you can, while i let you, while i still possibly can. Do not call looking for me do not make me your friend. It`s a job for a mad man. No one sane should ever do it again.
