“untitled: like a ‘choking’ composer”

choking once.
i feel as if, i have been bludgeoned to death by the sharpness of this energy that, has left me here without oxygen...
can’t breathe.
where has happen-ness gone to?

am i to be happy for what i breathe into my body?

smells,
tastes like the poison of the people who have taken life, liberty and passion
away from me.
can’t breathe.
can’t breathe...or feel my legs...where are they?

and i barely can write these words.
my energy has been taken away from me,
by my ownself.

where is a friend?
why did she lie to me?
embarrassed.
this world i can not stand. she,
who i am so upset about (not angry. never has been angry...frustrated).

it is like,
she has unintentionally ripped out my heart-
it burns.
i have believed that,
i belong in a hospital.

where is a friend?
seemingly in Paris or Australia or,
Mexico-Hawaii- “So-Cal”-Virginia.
and i have left myself here.
my invisible body lives with someone,
whom i thought i was friends with...
friends does not tell you how much,
i hate you.

this feeling i have of you,
is burning me alive.
is teasing me for not coming forward to you of,
the feeling i have.

due time.
when is due time?
is it now?
is it never?
is it within the next 8 months?
i have no reason to smile.
i have no reason to honestly believe that we have a chance to be friends again,
but i do believe that.
for your silence has unintentionally or not,
has punished me enough for whatever discomfort,
i may have brought upon you.

but that is not it either.
you are simply 22 years old.
full of energy. life. growing intelligence and experience.
why should i be upset?
except,
i am selfishly upset that,
i am not a part of your life- full of energy, life. and growing intelligence and experience.
i am not a part of that.
so,
i guess i am upset because of selfish reasons.

the only thing that my heart knows is that,
I miss you within my heart,
my soul,
my life.
and foolishly for me,
i thought that somebody could take that away from me...
but the only person that can do such a thing,
is myself.
is myself. and i am burning with the wrecking intensity of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.

“damn you Beethoven for taking all of my passion away from me!”