Sometimes I think that I am broken beyond repair,
That a lifetime of inconsequential tragedies
Has left me only wanting consequential tragedies,
That the true sadness in the sadness I have known
Is that I have never truly known sadness,
That my despair is ordinary to the point of hopelessness.
I find myself addicted to insurmountable odds
And moments so unrealistic that not even my dreams can construct them.
There is nothing so alluring as forbidden love,
The Shakespearean grip on something that no one will let you have…
But you have anyway.
Moments become lifetimes and memories are whitewashed
Magnified in each others’ minds because all you have is each others’ minds
Wrapped within yourselves in a way no one can touch
There is torture in stability and restlessness in calm
All we’ll ever wish for hanging off the ledge is an arm to pull us up
Yet when it does, we eye the ledge again.