Will you sit here with me
in the dark?
Next to me
surrounded by the
constant crash of what we are told
is too bold or cold or crass
to cast one's attention to.
Mingle with my fear
and my tears
and emotions that others
hold no retention to.
Be with me
in the middle of chaos.
Amid the disarray
that we pretend each day
is a little more organized
like the unruly is classified
and categorized
as if something we schedule
to set aside and manage.
Will you lay here with me,
damaged as I appear?
Hear the chip and crack?
Feel the bruises undermined?
The "Never mind?"
The "Don't come back?"
Can you find a reason to stay
even when I'd rather not say?
When I don't want to play?
When I don't want today
and won't look at tomorrow?
Will your failure to fill the void
turn you away?
Keep you at bay?
What would you say
if I told you
that I know you aren't the answer
so I've no desire to ask a question?
I'm in no need of suggestion
nor protection.
Remain with me
circled by projections
of the hesitant and the rushed.
The warmth of trust.
The cold emptiness of lust.
See the journey toward a phantom
conceptualization of fulfillment
filled with self applied lies
and the silence of voices
that are merely waiting to resurface
so they can feed on my cries....
........you can try
but I wouldn't blame your refusal.
A forehead kiss
the meager dismissal
I've grown all too aware of.
"It won't be alright."
"It won't be okay."
"It will not end today."
Things you'd do well to say
but we are taught
the proper niceties of comfort.
Endearment is a bruise
upon the flesh of fruit
we are taught to eat without questioning.
Our reckoning in season
reasoned between teeth, tongue and cheek
and we aren't given to speech
until we swallow that bite
but politeness will not rule
and we don't have to fight
so will you join me tonight?
Here where night and day don't share.
Here where the absent and unaware
and those who couldn't care less
are replaced with we who are caressed
by discomfort and dismay
and the words we can't say
in any conceivable way
too loud among crowds
bound to see us as foul
and disgusting.
Thoughts hinged on mistrust
thrust in front of us
against walls we can't see
but feel certain are displayed.
Viscous liquids sloshed and played with
smattered across it all
for no one to see.
Confined and closed yet free.
Already all we need to be.
So even when light refuses me,
I wonder still:
here
where vision lacks,
in the black of it all,
will you sit here with me
in the dark?
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
damaged as I appear?
Hear the chip and crack?
Feel the bruises undermined?
The "Never mind?"
The "Don't come back?"
Can you find a reason to stay
even when I'd rather not say?
When I don't want to play?
When I don't want today
and won't look at tomorrow?
Will your failure to fill the void
turn you away?
Keep you at bay?
What would you say
if I told you
that I know you aren't the answer
so I've no desire to ask a question?
I'm in no need of suggestion
nor protection.
Remain with me
circled by projections
of the hesitant and the rushed.
The warmth of trust.
The cold emptiness of lust.
See the journey toward a phantom
conceptualization of fulfillment
filled with self applied lies
and the silence of voices
that are merely waiting to resurface
so they can feed on my cries....
........you can try
but I wouldn't blame your refusal.
A forehead kiss
the meager dismissal
I've grown all too aware of.
"It won't be alright."
"It won't be okay."
"It will not end today."
Things you'd do well to say
but we are taught
the proper niceties of comfort.
Endearment is a bruise
upon the flesh of fruit
we are taught to eat without questioning.
Our reckoning in season
reasoned between teeth, tongue and cheek
and we aren't given to speech
until we swallow that bite
but politeness will not rule
and we don't have to fight
so will you join me tonight?
Here where night and day don't share.
Here where the absent and unaware
and those who couldn't care less
are replaced with we who are caressed
by discomfort and dismay
and the words we can't say
in any conceivable way
too loud among crowds
bound to see us as foul
and disgusting.
Thoughts hinged on mistrust
thrust in front of us
against walls we can't see
but feel certain are displayed.
Viscous liquids sloshed and played with
smattered across it all
for no one to see.
Confined and closed yet free.
Already all we need to be.
So even when light refuses me,
I wonder still:
here
where vision lacks,
in the black of it all,
will you sit here with me
in the dark?
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz