Rework: Uneasy Silence, Curiosities And Visions

 I had somehow become married to my loneliness 
                       and that's where you found me.  

I tried to fight you out of my mind 
                      but I can't help but keep writing my admiration of you.  

Writing it out feels like the best and the worst moment all at the same time. 

I can proclaim a masterpiece for you in this blog of mine repeatedly, 

          but my vocal chords turn to concrete at the sight of your face;  

                 keeping me from saying what I need to in order to voice my need for this to be mutual.  

Instead it's easier on my heart to dismiss any nice things that you say to me 

          and accuse you of sleeping with half the planet 

                 and push you away with the dismissal that you're just screwing with me 

because you enjoy killing me slowly like some narcissistic serial killer of hearts 

         instead of accepting what you're telling me to be true. 

Constantly questioning the Universe:  
                    "Is this an ocean or a puddle?"  
My ability to tell has been skewed by muddled signs of self preservation 
                     and punch drunk curiosity.  
I run a constant race with my emotions 
                and it's usually ego that falls flat on it's face first 
         with inner peace coming in dead last.  
It just sits in the middle of the track waiting to be kissed, 
                 checking out the dandelions.

Converse with me, but don't look at me.  
Your eyes cause a molecular change in my spirit 
              and my mind becomes amputated from my mouth 
and my heart is at the control panel 
        and that's not a good thing if we want to avoid burning to ash.  
My tongue doesn't follow direction well.  
The way I feel about you has become so ingrained in me 
                 that I would set myself on fire if you asked for light. 
But your words are hitting my ears as faint as a coin you've flipped into a well of abandonment 
            and echoing just as hollow.  
Words, that's all you give me.  
I'm tired of waiting for you, 
                patiently watching you gambling copper in hopes of promises of gold.  
It's infuriating.  

I've grown accustomed to goodbyes without ever speaking the words "It's over".  
I keep waiting for your grand deployment from my life;  
               praying with every atom of my being that it never comes. 
Based on your history that you've let me see you don't keep them around long;
         yet I'm supposed to keep my patience level to a maximum at all times even when you don't call. 
My head gets the concept, 
           yet my heart is about 10 miles back trying to catch up.
I could watch you watching the news on the couch 
                  and not hear a thing 
but find a million things about you that I can't get enough of.

There's nothing that can ever keep me from you.

Except you.

This is just a re-work of a previous post titled "Uneasy Silence, Curiosities and Visions".  It just didn't feel like it was flowing correctly and getting my point across as I re-read it the other day.