The Fall of the Vapor Mystic, Part IV (What We Do for Love)

Why do I even write these days?

Why do I try?

Why do I try as hard as I do when clearly there are more effective and efficient approaches.

Someone has it figured out…

Not me.

 

I see so many others who write poems that reach audiences of hundreds or even thousands.

I see videos that reach beyond that, to the millions.

 

“If only I had a good pair of tits,”

I think to myself

As I scroll the leader boards and see the most mundane videos of bedrooms and back yards

With much more reach into the hearts and minds

Than the tailored experience of which I am so proud,

That I have crafted with all of my own heart and mind.

 

I see:

Men who fawn and drool like prehistoric pond slime

As well as

Women who are appreciated

-Excuse me, whose bodies are appreciated-

By so many,

As well as women who know what they want and are going to get it (Go girl!)

But still…

If only I had…

Trauma inflicted over many years,

A resignation to expectations,

A lack of self-respect and support from others who care about me for who I am

And the blinding desire to be accepted that comes as such.

 

Well…

I’d get into the level of self-esteem issues that have gotten me to where I am at,

But I am so darn humble with such things as to almost be proud,

A walking contradiction as in so many other ways.

 

This place is awful at times.

Some days I just want to scream and tear my skin from my face to my toes like a banana peel

Just as I remember seeing in cartoons sometimes as a child.

 

Some days I cry

-Who am I kidding-

Most days I cry,

In work meetings

In my car on the way to and from the various obligations I find myself accepting,

On walks and seated at my desk,

Cued on by

Just about anything,

Anyone,

Or the lack thereof,

Silence or

Words

That show even a trace

Of vulnerability,

Compassion,

Rage,

Any emotion indicating I am speaking to another human being

Something I doubt at times in all honesty.

 

I have worn myself to the bone

Just trying to be

Accepted,

To be loved.

 

What we do,

Say we would do,

Would do,

For love.

 

Most anything…

In the right state of mind.

 

Would we kill for love,

Just as Ruth in fiction?

I have tried

And almost succeeded,

And I do not think I am all that unique in this regard.

 

Why do we seek approval from others so deeply

So often without our own awareness as such?

My actions and thoughts are consciously endowed with the deep-rooted notion of self-acceptance

And I am growing to learn that sometimes you need to give the entire world the middle finger

And say “F%*& you, I am who I am and you can deal with it,”

But at the same time

I am also learning to be genuine and honest,

And when I see things as they are

As I read this poem in my head moments after I left the words slip out onto the screen,

I see a desperate human being seeking acceptance and love

The same as 1, 2, 10, 20, or even 30 years ago,

And I am

Ashamed

Apathetic

As well as proud.

 

Ashamed that I cannot reject the need to seek others approval

Despite honest best efforts,

Despite a drive to love myself as I am,

As I do others.

 

Apathetic as I know

It doesn’t matter

Because I will learn and grow and keep pushing forward

Bcause I am A***** Freaking P******* and I can do anything and so can you.

 

Proud because

I am learning to be aware of these things

And to work with them to move forward

Instead of allowing them to impede my path.

 

So,

The fall is complete

But nothing is ever final

And what falls will inevitably rise again,

Though not in the same form.

Does that render this collection meaningless?

I don’t really care.

These words were never for you to begin with

Nor were they for me…

They just are,

As so much of this world is

And we can take it or leave it.

 

I am looking forward to a future where there is no need

To feel as if we must kill for love,

Where love is abundant.

This is lofty,

Perhaps,

But achievable;

I am done waiting for the world to change,

And if I would kill for love

Then I can’t even begin to describe,

To comprehend,

The lengths I am willing to go to

To remove the need in the first place.

 

What we do for love…

Whatever we must.

 

I love you all

And always will.