Jon In April

I can’t sleep
You’re haunting me, tormenting me.
Breaking my heart in new cruel and unusual ways.
Every inch I give to you, every moment I open myself to you,
you rage back at me with a teenage angst and dark cry.
Are you afraid of me?
Are you afraid I might somehow crack you in half?
Or destroy your fragile little heart?
Or are you just afraid of feeling something for me?

I know you.
I have always known you.
You say you’ve changed.
But what I know about you is that you hide from me.
That you feel things more deeply then you’d ever let on.
You get nervous and scared.
It’s easier to mask it all and self destruct
then to just let your guard down long enough.
To really let yourself feel all of these things.
Or let me close to the core of you.

I see you hiding.
Hiding from me. From you.
From the man you could be.
Burying it deep down.
Fixating on the mundane to survive.
You can’t shovel the soil over me.
You can’t give me a funeral.
Somewhere inside, something tells you that you might need me.
For the love of God stop!
You’re burying me alive.