Hackney

Awake

Surrounded by the confusion of incomplete thoughts

I’ve dubbed “The Memoirs of The Discontent”

Ripped from its backbone and crumbled to a ball.

These disorganized ideas, hopes and desires

All smudged together into a heap of garbage…

The pages are tainted, stained by the bittersweet I have tasted and spewed carelessly

I find myself battling a troubled mind

Filled with unanswered questions and regret of the year passed.

…I pity the mess of it all and pity myself even more.

I blame my mother for bestowing this lack of patience upon me.

I sometimes wonder what a woman who seemingly ran through life with her head screwed on backwards

Came to be with my ever so patient and nonchalantly passive father ever had in common.

I’m rambling…

I do not miss you on most days.

Some days it’s your fragrance, other days your laugh, your lips and even your touch but not… you.

I doubt that makes sense

I could never have had my fix and deep down I accept that fact

Yet these social mediums become the place to vent

While it’s users become your shrinks

These motivational speakers leaving comments on their versions of our events

The Do’s and Don’ts on the next step

Opinions from the ones outside of the box

Outside of the equation of me+you…

I digress…

My handwriting can't be seen on these pages.

I wish you could see it.

I want you to witness the many alterations in my scribbles

Representing the changes in my mood,

Slashes against the paper when I’m angry

As my mind forces words too quick for deliberation

And everything pours out as my ink soils line after line on sheets of paper.

I confess, if these words were spoken it would only be rambles of a madman.

Yet, I want you to see the changes in my scribbles and the delicacy in expressing how I feel about you.

My letters, are… much more pronounced each time I write "I Love You"...

Each time I begin lettering your name…

I want you to witness the errors within my words and the grammatical flaws...

I am aware of the imperfection in expressing myself

I press forward to have you understand…

All this because I want you...

To understand that is...

I need you to understand…

I love you beyond the measure of space and time…

Olsfred James 2014©