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I Am Not Your Substance

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You don't know me—you know craving. You don't want me—you want feeling. Reassurance in the form of a kiss, that you are not alone in this life as you were in your last. I empathize with rain for I too fall in accordance with my nature. You relate to soil in that you need the rain.  What you feel is not longing. It's an  addiction.  You don't pine—you convulse. You don't embrace—you use.  But I am not your substance, and you are not my fiend. You see, I don't owe you any gratification. You feel unhappy in this world? Get a hobby. You lack all sense of purpose? Go find it. I do not find myself obliged to put meaning to your name. Nor is it my job to make your life almost worth living. I just can't fathom such infirmity, that relevance lies within the arms of a man. If I did that—put my worth in you—I would be worth nothing. Because  you  are nothing and I will not be an accomplice to this coup you've plotted against yourself.  I know better than to think...
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The Somewhere Between

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The Somewhere Between
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Beyond Lines: I'm Not Crying, You Are

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Literature)  I used to dream of the day he'd say that he loves me. It'd be sincere, like rain plummeting onto dry soil. It'd be soft, like a hymn sung between chapel walls. Intentional, like poetry. Intricate, like the pulse that beats for him. My soil was met with drought and fortitude crumbled beneath silence. There was never intention, only substance, but nothing substantial.  I'm Not Crying, You Are: You saw the tears but didn't notice how my love bled into despondence. Did you look back as you were leaving? Or was cremating my heart just that easy? You once said I'm your new beginning, but I'm still at the airport waiting for you to tell me that you love me. I reminisce about a kiss that never happened. Slam the car door— you in my arms— the beat of my heart— I'm not crying , you are.  You denied my right to certainty and sentenced me to three months of unease.  The price I pay for making you my priority— How can I live in the moment when you've...
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