I should be sleeping, but my dreams were taken from me tonight.
I don't need your thanks. All I ever wanted was to be understood; to be acknowledged; to have someone join me in the Tango. But I guess, sometimes, giving up is easier.
Truth is revealed between the lines - I could have taught you to read between them too. I always tried. But blind eyes lack vision to fully comprehend what is not hidden beneath your presence.
Don't pretend to understand my pain. Don't speak with your figure of speech - the tales have been spread one too many times. It is an old echo that lost its fruitful meaning.
No, do not thank me. Do not love me. Do not acknowledge me. I am nothing but a breeze that came and went - a tool now left in the dark. But your new toys will break you too.
It is said that familiarity breeds contempt. It is also said that there is always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom one has ceased to love. Perhaps you feel this way?
ReplyDeleteIntolerable, yes (at times unwelcome). Ridiculous? I would disagree.
ReplyDeleteHave I ceased to love another? In the long run, nobody ever does stop that purposely. Indirectly and for my own benefit, I convince myself that I have.
My interpretation from Wilde is that 'ridiculous' refers to "How can they possibly feel a way that I do not expect, nor want to, or can, understand when I desire it another way?".
ReplyDeleteEt, vraiment. He is not a lover, who does not love forever
oh Mr. Wilde...leave it to him to conjure up some sort of lyrical genius insight about life and its predicaments.
ReplyDelete