Scribblings of the Opiated Sherpa

Well, I am just facing it now. You are not here. You haven't been here, And you are sure as hell not going to be here. But now that I see this, I sometimes have to believe, That I am better off, Without the happiness you would bring. Again, I find myself checking the mail, For hopes that everything I feel, Everything I tend to believe, Is all for not and you want to be here. I haven't seen you in so long, But I have continued to believe, That maybe, just maybe, The sun will shine again. The funniest thing, The most ironic thing, Is that you haven't a clue, Of what I think. You don't know, Who I am, Who I want to be, Who I'm not going to be. A sobering depression, And I am the only one who Feels it... Knows it. If I could hide a little longer, I would be dead. And people would say, He has died a happy man. Oh how wrong they would be, Because my fate right now, If I was to predict it, Would not be one of pleasantries. There is a piece that I am missing, A very small,

Tonight I write, For the sake of just writing. Placing whatever comes to mind, Onto the slate set before me. But right now, You, You are on my mind. And I would like to write forever. To have you here, To pose for this art, Art of my thoughts, Art of my words. You can stand still, Your back turned to me, Not knowing I am there, And I could write you a page or two. I will write what I have to say, It may not be the thing you want to hear, But it will probably be something, That I really mean. And then you may turn around, In a curious glaze, You notice me, With sheet in hand. I take note of your face, I take note of your body. Another couple of pages comes to mind, And you haven't even said a word. The sun shines down on you, I take notice of the light. The highlights of your beauty, Shine through as it was meant to be. As I continue to write, You slowly move closer, The inquiring look becomes more certain, And your pace slightly quickens. Still I write you, As if you will never com

Tonight, I lay down peacefully To take into account What actions that has passed And come to the conclusion of failure. Ignorant in the ways Of the ritual courtship. I find myself in a state of Loneliness and utter depression. And to compliment the pain Is the knowledge that The task at hand Was not one of great difficulty. A task of conjoining Myself of the masculine type To another of the feminine gender Building us both into one whole entity. This simple task Was one of most importance To the meaning of live I have forged for me. A simple reason To awaken in the morning To live throughout the day And to wait to do it again tomorrow. Now this desire must wait For another one and another time And until then I will Harbor thoughts of past failure.

Can you see yourself At your destination? Can you see your path Through the place you wish to be? Do you believe you will Run right through Without the trouble Of the many obstacles? But these obstacles you fear Will not destroy who you are. They may hurt you a little, But they only build your character. Then look at the obstacle The one who stands before you. Determine where this obstacle is, Part of the path or a piece of the destination.

So what is it? What is it I need to do, To open your doors And look inside? I hang on to A thread of hope Made of the notion, That you haven't said no to the idea. I'm in front of you now On one knee With a flower in my hand Asking you please. You taunt and torture With the words expelled The lips that seal And the member within. If I didn't need this This never would have happened The thought wouldn't see the light The ink would never have met the paper. Accept me and trust me, Nothing can go wrong If we live for the moment And not look back.

Fingernails chewed Hair is curly soft Forgiving personality Couldn't hurt you. Didn't want to seem So hard, Because I am Not of that kind. But I know I draw images That are very hard lined And I have a very sharp wit. So if I say That I am so soft, Then why does everyone think That I am going to hurt them. How can I prove to you That if you press anywhere on me That if would press inward, And not come back to prick you.

Drop me to the floor, Punch me, Grab me and throw me, Just get me down there. A shot to the head, A kick to the ribs, Grab a stick, And take a swing at my back. Blindfold yourself, Pick the stick up again, Spin yourself around, And swing it mercilessly. Open up my skin, Make me bleed profusely, Then stitch me up, With a rusty needle. Take my broken body, Throw it away, Into the ice cold lake, Make it feel like I needed that. Well now that I am cold, You decide to warm me up, By taking that iron bar in the fire, And placing it against my body. The burn marks on my body, Seem to represent, Your general hatred for my life, And what I seem to want. Now let's go for a drive, Out to the middle of nowhere, Throw me out of the vehicle, And leave me to die. After hours of lying in the soil, You decide to finish me, You get out of the car, And you tell me you don't want me. My eyes open wide, My limbs cramp up, And my heart stops. A cold-blooded death. My skin turns blue, My eyes glaze u

Yourself as a whole Hit my planet As a comet Plummeted from the heavens. Myself as a giant rock Could either envelop you Or be destroyed Into pebbles of my former self. The impact of your hit Has shook me to the core And has quaked my mantle With a new atmospheric pressure. Although my surface material Remains as it was before There is a definite hole That leads to my core. Now only time will tell If your material Is docile Or destructive.

Penny for my thoughts, You ask me. Don't worry about it, These ones are on the house. I must be seeing things, When you tell me you look horrible, Because all I see, Is a very attractive young lady. And this beautiful girl, Shines like the rising sun on the lake, She sings like she should be in a higher place, And knock out a guy without throwing a punch.

If I stab you, How much would it hurt? If it was a sharp object, Would it hurt even more? If I was to stab you, What would you say? Or would you even know, I did anything at all? What if I told you, You've already stabbed me. You have already pierced me, With the needle of speech. But you stabbed me, And I bled profusely, Not the red of the leaf, But the blue of my feeling. Did you know what you did, Or was it so painfully unobvious, That it passed your pretty face, Like the star over the city of lights. I wouldn't know where to start, When I tell you how much it hurt, Or how much sleep was lost, All because of the metaphorical knife.

This is me, As this tiny little star, No orbit, Nowhere to go. My light doesn't shine, There's no glimmer, There's no fire, Just a tiny little glow. Created in a bang, No bangs since, Nothing important, Nothing made. I haven't shot anywhere, Haven't picked anything up. Maybe one day, I'll pass through a loose system. Maybe I'll pick up, Another star, Brighter than I, And we can create another universe.

Welcome to my oblivion, The large emptiness, Which imitates my life, In all of its meaning. I've felt like, A vast space, Taking up space, In the lives of other people. For my entirety as a whole, Has done nothing, In the way of accomplishments, For man as a whole. It would be something, For me, To be more than nothing, To them. To get away from the norm, Of the family units, Who are primarily proud of, Myself staying alive. But I want to be more, More than this, More than me, Mainly, more than average.

For what I can see, It is all black and white. The lines are hard, And not easy to break. The understanding of this perception, Is dependant of one's own Definition of perception, Deception and conception. My eyes are not yours, My thoughts are not aloud. These hard images that I see, Can be seen by you as well. These jagged reflections, Come off in many different forms. From the raw edge of the truth, To the sharp pain of the flame. Once you've understood my position, The hardest part is complete. As soon as these lines are inside, It is as hard for them to leave. But now you've seen life, From somewhat of it's eyes, Now it should be simple, To see someone else's different shaped lines.