My Dreams of You

It so does appear, that when we are done
My dreams of you multiply in passion

I wonder if as I think
Having another beat on me
Would be more gratifying
Than beating myself

But I can always find reason to continue
With the screaming and the cussing
The kicking and the punching
Though from myself I feel not much

Each insult I’ve already heard from these lips
And each name has echoed through
Each blow hurts less and less
Almost as if I search for the one that does

Oh, all the things that use of energy
Prevents these hands from doing
And phenomenally it keeps these lips
From even more spewings of tourettes

It’s as if there is a big ball of rage inside
Waiting for any decent moment to escape
It has waited for many of years
And never received a fulfilling attempt

With its own story it sits and grows
Remembering it acknowledgments clearly
For you with the chin dimple
And the full ability to never care

For you with your protective presence
And no offer of protection from your own damage
For you with the self imagined height of an angel
And the treasured ignorance of a baboon

And For you with a heart bigger than any black whole
And a silver tongue stronger than any god’s
Your ability to try until your emotions will no longer bend
Yet your way of making everyone else oh so small

I wonder if I could blame all of you
For the way I torture the one I love most
How I pull hate from those dark brown eyes
Turning yellow and orange into a deep, putrid black

But someone great in the right mindset would remind me
That only one’s self can be blamed for what they do
I hear the above statement to ring quite true
And it breaks my heart knowing I do

As I am the hardest for myself to forgive
I turn the other cheek when taking a blow to the heart
And I might walk a different bath after a stab in the back
But forgiveness does remain for all without this face

I lead to an unhealthy you
Plain and simple, no easier way to see it
I am far from anything useful to you
And there is no one you need but you

Now what is there for us to do
After one Amygdala hijack too many
With no medicine to sooth
And all the smiles have been smashed away

It so does appear, that when we are done
My dreams of you multiply in passion