Outer Shells

I guess my feelings really are invalid.
Cuz they are constantly looked over like the chick whose ass is the flat-est.
I guess they both have nothing to offer in terms of society's convention.
And in the same way they crave true positive attention.
To be looked at for who and what they are and not their outer shells.
For these are still feelings whether it is a man that had them;
For she's still beautiful even if it isn't the skin where her beauty's held.

3 years later.
With countless changes to my life. Hundreds of new faces and new experiences. Plenty of new girls, sex, weed, liquor.
Nights have gone by.
I've cried. Drank and cried.
and thrown things.
Screamed and held in screams.
All because I'll never know
if you ever loved me.

Achievable Status

Sometimes I just wanna hug you and say, "it's ok" but it's not.

It never will be so I hope you feel that I feel for you in this silent embrace.
Darker times yet still may come your way.
To harden your soul like solid earth and not manipulative clay.
Now I must laugh; my mind's attempt to rationalize evil leaving a bitter taste.

One wrong for one wrong makes us even. Two wrongs for victory.

Are my thoughts and actions devil led?
Even more bitterness I taste from thoughts in my own head.
Consumed by anger I led a crusade.
Against one who I once longed to have at my side as my head laid.

Push away all doubts and moral thoughts. Plunge into detachment.

I did the deed flawlessly. Everything according to plan.
I couldn't tell if you were truly falling for me but I knew I'd hurt you.
Ignoring the consequences, I began to re-enter darkness.
Consumed by hatred realizing I was never truly that far from this.

And I don't know for sure but I bet you're doing better than me.
Three years later and I'm still not free.
Haunted by the passed moments and all my good and bad deeds.
I really tried to be but I just can't achieve the status of heartless.
Now I'm just off floating in the darkness.

Gripped

I feel like my soul has been drowning in fear for so long.
And there was just no way for me to move on.
Second guessing every thought as it appears.
Constantly worried about if I did this how would it appear.
Needing to keep all my thoughts from my peers.
Just what made me so gripped with fear?

There are so many words and things I wish I had said and done.
These feelings eat away at my heart and turn it into crumbs.
Now there is nothing left to commit to the one.
I can't seem to remember just how this begun. 
I guess all my driving force got burnt up chasing my previous sun.

Desperation

I never thought a part of the body could ache that you couldn't clutch.
All from the absence of another person's touch.
For awhile I chose to believe in lust.
I never knew I'd miss love so much.
I knew dust could attract dust but thought the attraction of souls was a bit much.
I miss lips against lips and hips grinding into hips.
So many moments spent far away from bliss that if it comes I doubt I'll resist.
Hands searching to be free and feel on shit as I attempt to hold back so clothes don't rip.
I've never really missed sex but I miss the moments of true love that lead up to it.
So many offer the freedom to let me feel this but if the feelings not in my soul than it doesn't exist.
I learned that the joy is not fucking but loving another.
I need someone who opens my mind and tears my soul asunder.
It was never the sex although that too was bliss.
What I loved most was the desperation that led up to it.

Not Knowing What You Seek

When you kill off your connection to your soul it becomes difficult to write.
You lack the emotions needed for insight.
Your grasp of words no longer flows into a river of adjectives, nouns, and verbs.
And what sounds good in your head comes out written absurd.
You grasp at the feelings you can recall but they are just out of reach.
Feeling nothing is really feeling suffering you'll wish someone had preached.

If you can't connect with yourself you damn sure can't connect with others.
So there will be no suitable consolation from another.
No writing or art form will be able to ease you.
Only drugs with momentary numbness to tease you.
Oh how you'll miss the feeling of your heart bleeding.
Your soul crying out and screaming,
For love or for whatever the reason.
Caught in between wanting emotion or wanting numbness to seep in.
Not realizing what you truly crave is freedom.

Untitled

As I read about a love so deep and feverish that I feel it as well,
I wonder how I could've ever wished for complacency.
The true definition of freedom alludes me.
And a life of balance seems to lack simplicity.
It actually seems closer to impossibility.
My soul still aches in longing to express itself,
while fear still grips me and keeps me from getting true feelings out.