Originally Posted: 2/14/08
I've ended my life a thousand times, in dreams. But I've killed you a million. Somedays I wish you'd walk away, but I know I'd follow you before too long. The wind and the rain couldn't keep me away and the sight of you is somehow electric. Sensual and cynical, round and round we go together. Faster and faster until we're a blur, until they can't tell where I end and you begin. This kind of love is tragic, because we all have to die someday and when you go and I'm still here...well, that day the world owes me a debt and I intend to collect. Madmen aren't born, they're made.
I've been stoned and crucified, burned and hanged and shot and stabbed. Like Nosferatu I'm still here, still waiting for the perfect day to go, but I have to wonder if I've just grown too attached to leave this. Maybe you're the one that holds me here, anchored in something I never could have conjured on my own. Something beautiful, that makes it worth the effort to stay and breathe a little longer, smile a little easier, and care a little more about the lives I take into my hands. I don't claim to be the Messiah, but God help me if I'm not a savior.
I recall everyone who has ever said they loved me, in good faith or in self-delusion. Every single one. But those lips that form those words these days are flawless and to kiss them with mine own is a singular sensation unsurpassed in me before. There's fire in my belly and there's poison on my tongue but you slip right past that to the sacred center where its pure, safe, surrounded by the gauntlet of unpleasant things I've stringed around it. Curled in me, fastened down to bear the storm, I'll keep you there as long as you would stay.
I may not have forever, but I damn sure have today.
Walk across the water and meet me by the sun, somewhere out near heaven where the angels' children run. We'll stroll through the meadows and pick Elysian flowers, and greet the Valkyries at the tall gates of Valhalla. I'll take you wondrous places and I'll dance you to the moon and if perchance a shooting star should pass I'll pluck it from its path for you. But regardless of the metaphors, the implausible dreams, I'll show you worlds you've never known, and some you've never dreamed.
Love is just a leap of faith, one you don't take alone. So take my hand and close your eyes cause, love, we're almost home. Let's build a house beside the sea and keep it in our lungs. We'll head up to the mountains in the days when we're still young. Grow with me until our fingers brush the silky sky, and I'll wrap you in an azure gown without a cloud in sight. Let it fall from your slender shoulders, that you might take me in. Something this magnificent, could never be a sin. We'll hold this churning, soft embrace till sweat pools down between us, we'll hold our breath in one another lest we want for air. To drink of you, to taste you, to devour you...is paradise.
Listen! Listen to the voice upon the wind who sings a song for you. A simple, solitary voice from far away. Its sung that tune since the seventh day when you and I were set down on this place. Listen, love, the gods wrote it for you, for I, for us. A song of endless, peerless love. Were it that the whole world sang that song in choir.
This seems senseless, a mixture of words that speak in splinters of something whole, with careless abandon at my own vague, meandering images. To cast Jupiter from orbit, to pluck a shooting star? How can even love make these things come to pass? Though saying them is better than just talking 'bout your ass. ;)
Take it as you please, ye victor of my heart. But promise me no matter if you think I'm mad or I'm sincere that you will, without condition, take it.
Avec l'amour,
Scar Rider
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