Freefall Mechanics

We dont choose

its vital to absorb this one fact
or else each step will be two steps back
and its only after you have lost your mind
that it will occur to you to pause and rewind
by which time it'll be far too late
for love doesnt wait
or give second chances
there's no such thing as resuscitated romances
love never dies, it just changes
thus ex-lovers wind up strangers
only till some trivial item triggers a lost memory
then they risk that one night at the cost of everything
and just let themselves devolve into an unholy mess
that's what happens when the young confuse love with loneliness
so listen to my every word
such that if it be the last thing you ever heard
then nothing else would be worth being said
listen to me before love is dead
there is only so much we can control
but you gotta lose it first to win it all
there's no way to make myself understood
yet sounding crazy can do some good
when speaking of insanity as a manifestation
of your seemingly inextricable situation
pay attention because i have stumbled upon the key
to letting go and flying free
see when i confronted my deepest fears and panics
it was revealed to me the secret of freefall mechanics:

We dont choose who we love

we stand on the edge of the cliff and dive
and should we die, at least we'll know we were alive
which means destined or befated, we cant lose
as for who holds the keys to our hearts, we cant choose.

The Lorry Driver's Mistress.

I told her

because no one should be a substitute
a seat filler, second choice prostitute
for the desires of such a needy man
some nights I just need his hands
to rub away thoughts of my seedless plans
my past mistakes and those still to come
to erase any trace of where I'm from
to drive his lorry across my plains
camoflouge dejection among orgasmic stains
its miraculous what the touch of a human hand can do
if I could rip the heart of that woman's man in two
I'd keep a half for myself and our little bastard.

I told her

maybe just to see the look on her face
see this kind of love leaves a sour taste
3 hearts in love means one goes to waste
I might lose out, hell, I took a chance
just couldnt stand any longer to watch them dance
and wish that I was the one on the ballroom floor
that I was the pride of the gala not the midnight whore
it hurts, to love so much that you grow five hearts
to forget who you are but only be loved back in parts
every night I vow it's my last mistake
I watch him sleep in my bed till at last he wakes
then he reaches for my heart as, alas, it breaks
knowing love doesnt heed to "void passed this date."

I told her

because no one deserves to be
a substitute for love, no, not even me.

Brink state of mind.

Some days i wish you'd never said
that sweet unrest inside my head
the words you spoke on which i choke:

"I love you, Rich, i love you broke,
my shield and spear, i love you true."

Just so we're clear, i love you too

but we cant dream the end to remake the start
so just how does one break a heart?
Do we sleep together but wake apart?
Or say forever then fake the art?
Because love is to be appreciated,
respected, honoured and non-negotiated

yet I've seen you cry
how does one begin to say goodbye?

Some days leave blisters across my skin
and the moonlight whispers: "You've lost again"
give me amnesia, give me some help,
how does one do this to someone else?

Do i kiss your tears and hold mine back?
dismiss your fears of dying old and fat
and alone?
How does one tear down a home?
How does one go through the motions?
Cry me a river, flood me an ocean,
drown me in this blissful commotion
wash the hurt away.

So here i stand on the brink,
gravely wounded and losing Ink
i wish i had more time to think
to imagine how you feel at night
in the rain, in the sun,
when you're wrong, when you're right
does happines learn to decieve?

Or do i just open the door and leave?

Encore of the one man show.

Salutations, Ladies and Gents
Snapshot of the soul proudly presents
for one night only, back by popular demand:
the inevitable self-destruction of a man.

The crowd gasps as they draw back the curtain
a ravishing beauty sits centre left of the stage
only recently a woman thus of deceitful age
there's no way to know but its fairly certain
this young temptress will cause a world of hurtin'.

Our hero walks on stage to centre right
poor boy doesnt even see it coming
the crowd whispers "retreat" but instead of running
he looks to her eyes and understands the use of sight
without drawing his sword, he's lost this fight.

For at a moment's glance he's lost all will
to answer questions he's been asking all his life
it wont matter if he can't make her his wife
the smart crowd understands love is a tainted pill
designed to cure all ailments but secretly intent to kill

And so ensues the required mating game
he approaches her and asks for a dance
she laughs him off but grants him another chance
poor boy cant even remember his own name
the crowd knows his sunsets will never be the same.

The scene shifts swiftly from light to dusk
she makes angels jealous when she sings
the knowing crowd is humbled in the wings
the poor boy no longer knows what to trust
his shadow starts to vanish in the dust.

The desire in him mounts and he turns restless
he's at a loss, from this point, to explain his misdeeds
the crowd understands it, better still, understands his needs
for her silhouette would turn ash rags into the best dress
poor boy never stood a chance against this temptress.

He signs over his name, his land and his god if he could
nothing of this world seems to matter,
nothing, the crowd knows, if he cant have her
and at the taste of a kiss, he's lost for good
only tatters of a man remain where poor boy stood.

There is scattered applause from out of the stands
the knowing crowd wishing they had known wrong
like hoping to change the lyrics of an unpleasant song
perhaps they hoped poor boy would be a stronger man
but there are matters of the heart men just dont understand.