TheCaptain's Log 6.7.2017.20.33

I present to you some poetry. These are from a time foregone. When darkness was the only colour I knew. This was a time when depression had befallen me, for I had found myself being pulled in two directions with a force I did not know truly existed. In way: toward a mighty love- the kind heralded in fictions. The other: toward a darkness that should never be dealt by the hands of those you trust- toward only Death. If you are easily trigged by stories of others' lament, dont read further.

I had fallen in love, a few years ago, with someone that my family opposed. It was a tragedy in the best sense. A love so bright and free. It delved into the Human Unknown. It was truly otherwordly- outside the realm of time or any other Human entrapment. It was pure and beautiful. At times just thinking about that love would send me into giggling fits. Not that I was made giddy or laughing because other knew not what I felt, but because the love was so intense that it would spill out of my body in the form of laughter. There was so much love there that my form could not contain it.

This love started out by happenstance. A case of the right place at the right time. I had been drawn to where we met. The circumstances of my going there were all the making of my wanting to turn away and head home- or not to go out in the first place. At this point in my life I was not one to travel alone, nor was I one to head off to events sans an escort or two. This night, no one was able to come out with me. I was heading to a part of the city I'd only driven past a few times and despite all of this I felt I had to be there. I had to. I knew it within me, and I felt it. I went to the event alone and I left very glad that I did.

Our love grew quickly. It was completely organic. It was intense. It was beautiful. But despite this: this bred in my family a poisonous opposition. The voracious backlash I received from them was truly a devastation. For I was so thankful and proud of what I had discovered through meeting this person, it was incomprehensible that the response from they that should support me could be so negative.

I was young. I wasnt ready for that kind of disgracing from the people that had spent nearly 2 decades doing the opposite- where they used to sing my praises I had now found myself in receipt of dalliances (and true brainwashing sessions) reserved only for the lowest of enemies. In the throes of this I wrote a few short poems.

These poems, I wrote in agony a few months after being with my Lover, are reminiscent of stresses I faced as a child/preteen: brought out again issues involving my race, my issue with body image, and overarchingly: the deep malaise and melancholy I felt from having to exist as a Human being. A feeling of discomfort I knew intimately since a small child.

I emailed these to my Lover the morning after they were written. Here are some of them replicated below:

Poem from Last Night #4

May 17th 2014
The vessel I've been given is defective
Or so I've been told.

My hair is shameful- Inherently so.
It's coils are wrong even in my progenitor's eyes.
My eyes are deficient;
Too weak to function on their own
These two marbles are a constant allusion to my whole being.

If the whole is equal to the sum of its parts: This body is subpar.
I've always been too plump or too thin;
Never the right size- even for myself.
I'd spend far too long working out to please them all;
Row until my hands bled.

Rinse. Repeat.

The hands I've been given are too weak:
Truly unmanageable sticks of meat
Preventing me from really achieving the only thing I've yearned for.

Stiff wrists
and locking, shaking,
fingers do not a surgeon make...

Not that I get what I want anyway. I've always been a failure;
Never quite good enough despite awards and graces.
At this rate I always will be.

Poem From Last Night # 3

You love me, I understand this
But you only want what is
best for you

What's best for you is not the best for me. I am unhappy here.
This home does not appeal to me.
But you don't want me to go.

Don't be so selfish. You love me,
This I understand
But I only want the best for you
What's best for you is not the best for me. I am unhappy here.

This vessel is no place for me.
But you don't want me to go.

Don't be so selfish.

poem from last night # 2

I gave you my word for tonight I make no promises about tomorrow
The meat beneath my dura
Is a peatree dish for malignant perceptions.
I've no traps of metal yet
I'm still fighting these carbon binds to get free.
The flesh is my prison. I pity those who are content here

poem from last night #1

I'm dying. Everyday I'm closer to the end. Slow decimation of corporeal and mental alike.
There's duality in this decay
Why Is it so wrong to decide this end for myself
All attempts for succeeding are diminishing in returns
I wouldn't truly be missed