Envious Eyes

Better were the days
When I wasn’t afraid
To walk the earth alone.

Better were the days
When she didn’t happen
To exist
And stumble upon me.

Her life was mine too,
She just thought
It was his.
She
Was
Wrong.

I longed for her to see,
But it turns out
That by doing so,
She’s becoming farther apart,
Farther from me,
Farther from the love
She opted to deny.

She said I’m being a bad person
And he was nice.
I hope she was right.
For if he isn’t what she thought,
I’ll be what she called me.

There came a time
When I cried an ocean.
A time I realized
That my efforts were futile.
Not that I was expecting
For her to be mine,
But because I was trying
To have something
That I can consider
Worth knowing.

Then another has followed,
A time when
The options were set,
The choices
Whether I should still be
The man I thought I want to be,
The man for her,
Or
To be the man
That should have left away
Before the pain began,
Before the test,
Before the pointless endurance.

My tears must have loved
The way they pass
Through my cheeks.
For until they hang on my chin,
Until they fall on the earth,
Until they get stepped on
By unwitting travelers,
They will never get
To be comforted
By the heat that frees them
Onto the stretched air.
And, back in my face
As they should be.
To touch me.
And be with me once again,
To accompany my pensive image.
A reunited partnership,
A cycle completed.
From pain, they were born,
And from sadness,
They opt to return.

Too long
It took me.
Too long, it should be.
For the length is compensated
With equal weight to indulge.

Then finally,
There it came,
A time when reality spoke
Upon realizing
That I was just being envious.
After, I decided
To quit the hope
For the arrival
of my actions’ fruition.
The crescent shape appeared
Again.
And the fear that engulfed me,
The one she introduced me,
Absconded
Along with the failures
That marked my heart.

The better days
Have found their way back.
The better days
Had me full again.
The better days,
When I was
Alone
But never lonely.
The better days,
When all things happen
As I want it to happen.

Now that I have carved
Her name on a gravestone,
She whispered her providence,
With faith to arrest
My heart back again.

The ocean she cried
Didn’t fall on a willing shoulder,
But on the earth where it should be,
The place where it must be.

With pride reclaimed,
And with enough strength
To restrict the flow of tears,
I made her recollect,
That I was in dire motive
Once.
In constant struggle
To make her live,
But there she was,
As usual,
Dead.

The pleads she offered,
The pleads
I once begged,
Landed on a barren sympathy.
In short,
Ignored.

Her eyes turned weary.
I took pleasure
To observe her grief,
Knowing that it would satisfy
The lack of things
Which she hardly even gave.
I felt the need
To gloat,
Now that I am
In the core of her eyes,
That I’ve become
Too ignorant to see,
That I’ve been well reminded,
How late it already is for me.
And,
That even with
Genuine
Love,
Refined and raw,
My heart has become
Too cold to thaw.

The void of love
Isn’t so bad after all,
I’m still up on my feet,
But now with assurance
That I can keep my stance
Without having to fall.