Satya Tabachnick Poet Narrative

Just Trying...

So here’s the deal:
I’m completely pissed off, but not really-
Really I’m heartbroken and just trying to breathe through the ache in my chest,
But that really has nothing to do with what’s going on does it. 
This is ridiculous.  I hate it. It’s not something I can just fix.
If I could make him forget just by kissing him stupid I would.
However, this is a bit too raw for that.  
It’s like when your fave song comes on and you’re voice begins to break near the end
 because you’re holding back tears.
Nothing really detracts from that feeling of complete abandon.  That’s true for love on both 
ends. 
Passion when you’re together, battering desperate aching when you’re not.

Now, I enjoy pain. I enjoy the sharp, sweet edge. 
I don’t enjoy this mind numbing pounding.  Like my body is being pulled inside out. 
There is no tearing, no ripping, no cutting, no sharp.  Just dull, stretching emptiness.
There is no joy in that. 
Only the true masochist in me finds something in this.
I don’t like dwelling on that part of me.
I’d rather be sharp. Like when you’re cut by a knife so sharp that it takes a minute for your 
body to register it as pain. 
Sharp. Sweet. Sinfully simple. 
Love.

This isn’t what I signed up for. But then, what is?
I love you.
That doesn’t really matter.
Does it.

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Mat Andros April 20, 2009 at 8:46 AM of course it matters love, the fact that we love each other matters more than your leaving for school. it just took me a little time to register the shock of how utterly much i love you, and the miniscule amount of time that it took. i love you dont ever forget that

John Loving Iii April 16, 2009 at 3:38 PM how can i say. this was a writers paradise. it griped me because i know these feeling very well. you have a few years before you master them but the pain will make you stronger if it does'nt make you cut your self to death. i liked the line kiss him stupid. a womans tackic but it wont work every time. good work. John Henry Loving III