How we relate to each other

I sat at the bar, I vowed not to go to
That I'd been to three times that weekend already,
I'd had too much to drink,
And could feel my heart pound under too many sulfates,
When He came over because I bought him a drink.
I thought of course he'd not sit quietly
He doesn't understand my relationship to money
(My desperate hope it'll be the thing that will allow me the privilege to be left alone.)
Of course he wouldn't just sit back and relax and enjoy what I bought him
Not when in guy world this means truce.
So he comes over there
And immediately comes too close.
I sit my bag on a chair
I desperately hope he doesn't sit on
And I lean back, wearily, like a dog whose tail's inching the back of their thighs,
Stiff as a board
And it hits me.
His silence, his inexplicant, expectant, very desperate silent look I take for full idiocy/borderline psychotic.
And as I looked at him, I saw, as though from a distance, my own reaction to him
And thought this is how we relate to one another
The same way he's seeing me, I'm seeing him
No matter how vastly our different opinions
He wants me to save him.
Or in the least make it alright
As I'm screaming inside my head F if I'll be your three minute fad!
So I go about giving in
Giving him a good night
We laugh
We roar
The sulfates strangle my heart
And he says _____ you're something else!
And I feel unique.
He asks me if he can walk me home
I politely, from some place I didn't know I kept sincerity towards men like him anymore
Say It's not far, "I know" he says
But accepts Because it's been an exceptional evening in his mind
All he really wanted.

Stand up man

I like you, ____
You're a stand up man.
You're calm when everyone else is an asshole
You stand beside me and say
___, calm the F down and do you work.
You're there when you don't have to be
You're inside my head and outside my mind
You play cards with my words
And make balloon animals with my emotions
So that I laugh at them
Instead of cry.
I know, I know, I know
There should be a better tribute to you than this
But let this be a place holder
For a time I can truly show you
How you've made this awful
Mess of  a hell
I've gotten my own self into
The biggest
Tiniest bit better
Than anyone else can during those eight hours

The god of letting go and not blaming yourself for everything

When you're not here,
I come out.
I hide in places, you can't see
So I don't distract you from your form
Because
Too often
I see through your eyes
I trip your motions
Before foot falls
I hate everything about you
But I still in your wake
And seep through your veins
Live inside your spleen
And Take up mass alongside you like a loyal servant to fetch water in the middle of the night
I will always be here
I will always beckon to your call
But when you're not here
I come out
I sing
I dance
I think for myself
I sit in a corner, alone
And I have finally learned from years and years of resentment
NOT to fear every moment you may return But to cherish every moment you are not actually here
Because when you're not here,
I come out
Oh I come out!
I sing!
I draw!
I'm me!
When you're not here,
I come out.
I can be me
Oh, I know I've said it
and write it over and over again
But the rejoice is in the spirit
Of letting you go
And not blaming myself for being your loyal servant
When I don't know how to be anything else, sometimes.
And I think in the end,
those who I've yet to thank say,
"Welcome back."

Absurd

It's hard to find someone who speaks absurdity, and I found you.
And I don't find you
Where are you to be found?
You said you'd go to Canada
Is that where you are?
With me waiting for that door to produce a boy.
Like my dog waiting for my hand to produce a treat.
You, we, speak absurd!
Out  of the hatred, we discarded (or earnestly tried,) from adversity, we speak absurd.
When so many chose hatred,
We just fight demons and speak absurd!
It's so hard to find someone who who speaks absurd.
And that time the door that produced a boy who can speak absurd
has passed.

Via

Dear life,

     I'm putting you on hold for just a while.

Sign human
~Sent via dark bar, bright lights, good karaoke

Dear Human,

    Good f'ing luck.

Sign Life
~Sent via a mans' couch you made out with that night

Dear Life,

     F you!

Sign Human
~Sent via path of least resistance, weeping, in corner, near bed

Dear Human,

     Please do what you can to change from what you've just woken up to.

Sign Life
~Sent via acceptance.

Dear Life,

     Okay.

Sign Human
~Via he never even called.

Pasta

You know it's not all it's meant to be
Said the one girl to the next
She stood up
Brushed herself off
Pulled down on her flannel tee
Made faces with the clouds
And glared at the other
As she clearly and loudly spoke
"I just want some satisfaction"
What do you want?
What do you want?
This is only a circus
This is only a stage
Where all the words are clearly imprinted
No psychics need to be here
We all know what we're thinking
But with all this being said
Then how in the end am I to have said
How was I to know what this would be?