FORBBIDEN CRUSH

The heart of a man is fragile. Its easily broken and almost impossible to put entirely back together as it was before the crush. The primary hunch. It leaves little pieces every time it falls in love; every time there’s a break up. It’s like a bird taking his first flight and crashes into an invisible wall that everybody knows it’s there but him. The bird will be scared for life and will constantly be on the watch for invisible walls, and in extreme circumstances he won’t fly ever again. Just when I thought I was over her. The claws of love pulled me back into the firing pit that’s barely above hell, and miles away from heaven. You have one shot, one chance for happiness. Almost everyone falls because they are too scared or too dumb to open their eyes and see that the real treasure of happiness has been standing right in front of him the whole time. I for one have been to hell and back just to feel a little fire; just to feel alive. The pounding love riot ready to release its fury. Standing at the gates of my heart ready to burst it open once more. There’s just this ounce of honor; pride still left in me forbidding me to go for it. She’s taken, she has a boyfriend; karma’s a bitch. Every thought strikes my mind like lightning in the middle of the day. Cigarettes and whiskey don’t cut it anymore. Sure, you feel a moment of joy, happiness and specially HOPE. But when the smoke clears and the effect of the alcohol vanishes, the hope you had built up goes too and something called reality takes over. One wakes up with an idea in the head contrary to what really is happening. An idea that the night before seemed likes the only way out of the agony. And you wake up feeling good about yourself no knowing why. There’s a possibility you might be the hero in her sky. But there’s a higher probability that you are just another grain of sand in an endless beach. There’s nothing that differences you from other people. You’re no longer special; to her you are just another guy. That’s the fear that keeps you up at night. That keeps you like a silent vigilante. You don’t have any patience for the future nor hope for a new beginning or a better tomorrow. Your eyes are open but your heart is closed. Nature has played a dirty trick on you. Destiny is nothing but a mockery of the past. Before you know it the love riot’s so strong, so fierce, that it never surrenders; it never retreats. It stays hidden, waiting, holding, taking, wanting, and needing. The ounce of honor and pride is leaking. The riot slowly drains it away. The pounding gets stronger than ever. Blinded by the truth you’re back on the roller coaster of a helpless crush. The love riot breaks free. The cigarette burns out. Only when it’s too late you know, you realize it… YOU’RE FUCKED.