By Jared Mercer
Do I look like Michael Madsen here or what?
I’m not going to write you a love song, poem, sonnet, or play for theatrical release.
I am not going to speak of feelings anymore as they only spark fear and thoughts of the future. I’m not going to think of the future.
When I sit across from you over dinner I am not going to look into your eyes, for the eyes are the window to the soul and I will not be caged by your deep lying beauty. I will not take your hand or brush your leg under the table. I will not slide a ring into your glass of champagne. Do not be fooled, I am no longer a bleeding heart, do not expect me to call the next day. Or the day after that for that matter. When your perfect lips curl into a smile revealing unfathomable teeth and release a warm mint-scented laugh, I will not pay attention.
I will not place myself in situations where you may find me, and I will not have an interesting story to tell. I will resent my job and my existence and create no news to share.
You will not cross my thoughts as I do not yours and you will not determine the outcome of each of my waking days.
I will not allow this thought pattern to flow from my mind through this pen and make this writing about you. I cannot believe this is true. Love at first sight no longer exists as it died with my hope of a shared happiness with you. It is so hard to love someone who does not love you, so with this I am through.
I may used to have been fleet of foot and moved quick but I have been returned to my shackles. I cannot escape the prison created by love, I cannot escape its oppression. It is always so joyous or so painful there is no moment to spare in between.
Life loses all other purpose and I will not give that up again. I refuse. These actions may have been set in stone before but this time I will not ignore the warnings. I will always wish but never succeed.
My life is a contradiction.
Every second I wing it. By doing nothing you do everything to me. I will not allow myself to drown in you.
An yet I will always love you.
P.S. A secret song for a secret friend
Now you’ll see I’m not a man I’m a mannequin
Slip away into the night as you’re just getting in
It was too good so I left that’s plain to see
I cannot settle I cannot lead a life ordinary
Purge into my soul and find nothing at all
I don’t believe in shit but nihilism
My heart pumps black
Not to the naked eye, not to the strong belief
As we know belief is the death of intelligence
I’m a cheat, a liar, and a fool
I thought I could hate as much as I love you
The wind doesn’t blow it doesn’t speak to me
Locked in a cage is how you learn to be free
Belief is the death of intelligence. Belief is the death of intelligence. Belief is the death of intelligence.
