Invitation to thee

January 14, 2009
By Justin Casseus, Germantown, MD

Reaching forward I open my arms in invitation.
Such an exaggerated gesture but nonetheless I invite you.
I do so with a welcoming embrace.
I openly admit despair has surfaced in my atmosphere.
And indeed I wallow in it.
The loneliness sets in like a winter chill against bare flesh.
Sinking into your veins no needle necessary.
So I open my arms in invitation.
Join me in this ocean of sadness.
Watch as I crash my anguish against waves,
I become the ruler of oceans a modern day Poseidon.
The water represents tears these eyes of mine shall never cry.
My heart hurts so bad theres no medicine for my sickness.
Show me a doctor who can mend these wounds.
Oh im so hollow I am empty.
Pull the strings and I shall dance like a marionette doll.
I will become the puppet of a puppeteer.
Really I am frustrated.
Do I repulse you so much?
Am I fearful?
Am I that monster that lurks in the back of your imagination?
How can I be so unapproachable?
Do my eyes bore you with intensity?
Am I hideous, of no interest to have conversation with?
How I despair.
Standing lonely on the outskirts of existence.
A phantom a ghost coming and going unseen.
Unnoticed and unwatched.
My footsteps leave no prints in the snow and there is no proof I’ve been here.
I open my arms in invitation.
Who steps forward?
Who would like to join this cold dark and lonely trail?
Give me light to this dark path.
Join me in the black of night admiring the moon.
Walk with me across the sands of deserted beeches admiring your beauty.
If you exist step forward.
I await your arrival with great excitement.
I am a nervous wreck pacing my floor boards.
Every so often checking in the mirror to make sure I am flawless.
Finding no error that would push you away.
Am I a fool to hope?
Shall my dreams become nightmares in the making?
Sleepless nights becoming an insomniac waiting.
Impatiently my pacing soon reduced to sitting.
Sitting soon becomes lying down.
And lying down results in sleeping.
So now I sleep alone.
Cold with the warmth of nothing next to me.
Once again that familiar sensation of my heart hurting returns.
This time around I embrace it.
Knowing now what I’ve always known.
Love is not meant for me.
But still I offer an invitation to thee.

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