An Arrow for an Arrow

Sleep passes only a few hours at a time. The hazy glare of the midnight flair flies in thine eyes. The transition from dream to lucidity doesn't take too long - as its meaning grasps on the horror descends upon. Humiliation and emptiness are all that remain of a heart that's been broken for far too long. I do mental jumping jacks, imagine I'm flying away. She gets smaller and smaller as I jump, I don't delay. But the damage has been done, I'm back in panic's way. I can't escape the sins of the previous day.

It happened in a flash. All seemed fine with the one with which I pine. But terror strikes on April the 1st. Officer forewarns danger - I'm down the wrong way. That very week she breaks off, but continues the light of love's fight. April the 7th, Easter's eve, I make a new mistake, don't follow her, don't hold her.

Friday the 13th the pain returns. Dave insists on beer this day, that fuck head of a man. The missionaries, the mother, they compound on my pain. I scream at my mother, another report tarnished me with stain. Doom heralds as it goes on, more beer, more neighbors - all alcohol’s domain. We travel, we fly! To another party not dry. As wet as the ocean, the liquor smells sick. Later I feel the victim of the universe's sweet trick. The 14th I'm sick and tired, humiliated supreme. The 15th I accuse, I feel used, not thinking straight.

From the 13th to the 20th I'm sick of this world. Sick of myself, not in my right mind. I hate everything but her. Then 20th, things go well. Passions flair as we stare. Just as I think we've hit it, I'm out of this pit, she won't have it, I'm back in the ditch.

Sunday I try, on yes my, my! That night she makes it clear, I'm no longer her dear. Next day I leave for the north, my first mistake I fear. A whole week I had to hold my sweet dear. We could have gone out upon the lake. Now I'm stuck writing poetry and whiny letters, I reel like ten year old punk-pop (played at your local Jimmy Johns!). Chattered teeth as I fetter and leer.

Yes I shake, yes I yield. I love you, I love you, I should have screamed it to the world. But then Amber! But Amber creeps near! It becomes clear. I need answers, answers, as we walk through the field. As I'm with her it becomes quite clear, quite clear. My love isn't here, I fear. She's gone, that's it. Sick from that night. And it was there I lost my love on that fateful sick night. A rope I hung myself, it pains me to believe, noose hit me, flick me. Now I don't dare lay down to rest. I’m just another clever pest. 

Time passes as I walk among the masses, after what feels like two years I see her, she says she loves me - before even I do! Yet she's gone yonder, another dear she's found now. Someone different, someone better, someone she can share in sweet life's plunder, I fear. What happened? What happened? We wax and we wane. Just a friend? Oh my. You sound like Ashley, my dear. Too cruel, too cruel. She could have yelled at me earlier, "it's over I fear." But hope had lingered on, I wanted her next to me right there right then there. Now I’m stuck and I’m jealous, and sad, and glad that at least we talked things out, found out all about her sweet pains she felt when she was so near.

I wake from my dreams, it all seeps to and fro. My sweet kiss means piss, nothing but a peep echoes loudly as the beams all go out, my sweet sis. I feel guilty, I feel cheap. I feel stupid, feel dumb, for only a couple hasty mistakes, I’m stuck in a drought. I feel horrible, this wretchedness inside of me. Most times everything seemed to work fine, but one month later I feel reviled and sick to even think that my mind crosses such lines; yes I want to hold her, to kiss her, to never let her go. To serve her, to guide her, to be within her fold. I want to learn and to prosper, to love as she does what she does.

I go to her. The whole day turns out quite well. We had more laughs in store. But she looks at me with sadness with wit. She didn't want to hurt me, it seems a fair fit. No anger, no sadness, her radiance delights. But I secretly curse the day God saw fit to let me taste her sweet might. Now I can't sleep unless I write, so I write.

I cry, I mourn. My sweet chance to rekindle all that there is. Guilt overtakes, I hold myself back. Please kiss me, please feel me! Know that I'm learning, that it took me until that fateful Acen night - as soon as you moved on I was ready to take it all upon. To finally commit is omit. This goat’s heart stricken by her archer's fiery arrow. I’ve come full circle – past Amber, ready to commit – now in her position, the kind of love I long for, now knocks the wind out of me, as I did to the one before. You know the old saying, those who live by the sword, die by the sword. An arrow for an arrow.

The artist inside rekindled far and wide. This memo I do leave behind.

"Call my name through the cream, no one sings like you anymore."