The Last Page

Entry 13 12:00am

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example: "The night is shattered

and the blue stars shiver in the distance."

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.

I kissed her again and again under the endless sky!

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.

How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, even more immensely without her.

And the verse falls to the soul as dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.

The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone sings. Far away.

My soul is lost without her; unsatisfied with losing her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.

My heart searches for her, but she is not with me.

On the same night, whitening the same trees.

But we, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that is certain, Oh but how I loved her!

My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.

Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that is certain, but maybe I do love her.

Love is so short and forgetting is so long.

Because on nights like this, I held her in my arms,

my soul is lost without her; unsatisfied with losing her.

Though this be the last pain she makes me suffer,

these will be the last lines I will ever write for her...

-Ezra-

This concludes Roseheart Genesis

A Change of Heart

Entry 12 1:00am

Who was I?

I was the nice guy who was left stuck in between your toes like lint from the warm black socks you used to wear on your cold and lonely nights.

I was that one guy who still gave you a shoulder to cry on even when you only gave me a cold one back.

I was the nice guy who remembered your birthday on the night I spent alone with a gift ready at home waiting for an invitation to your party full of people who couldn't even remember your name.

I was that nice guy who tried to arrange the best valentines day I felt you deserved on the same day you made mine the worst I've ever known.

I was that nice guy who randomly sent you flowers on the night you were screwing someone else behind my back.

I was the nice guy who told you how beautiful you were without make up or your hair done while your insecurities were shoving me away into the tiny dark void you created in your mind thinking I was some kind of game.

Who was I? I was the nice guy who swore will never be a nice guy again

So then I became the dick who put lacitive in your drink on the night you told me you loved me.

I was the guy who had to look at your facebook just to wish you a happy birthday on the same night I threw up on your couch and left without saying goodbye.

I was the guy that you slept with the night before you woke up alone on your bed with a fake name and an impregnated belly to remember me by.

I was the one you sent a text to, never got a response back, and then told you I never got that text.

I was the guy who never brought any booze on every night you sent me a BYOB party invite.

I was the jerkoff you payed the dinner tab for when I said I forgot my wallet at home at the end of the meal when I was rolling twenties in my back pocket reserved for the whore who felt the same way I did. Heartless.

But Now I'm the asshole laying alone in my death bed without a person in sight staring at the heart rate monitor before it flatlines.

Sometime Around Midnight Again

Entry 11 11:59pm

Ezra sat on his bed staring into the perfect painted picture of empty cigarette boxes that laid across his bedroom floor. Frustrated and alone, he covered his face with his hands and let out a distorted scream of hurt that replaced the carbon dioxide that filled the air moments ago. "Why...why, why, WHY, WHY!!!!" were the only words he could say out loud. His mind was overflowing with thoughts of confusion, questions, and doubts. His thought patterns were creating mazes of possible solutions, but none that led him to a second of peace. He needed to find a way out, but his heart was as trapped as he was within the walls of his room. Ayla was the only person on his mind to comfort his screaming soul because he lost himself to an addiction of sex and irresponsibility to define his own independence. "What am I supposed to do? I gave my whole life for this! I stopped everything in my tracks just to build something new with her. Is this really the Karma I get for trying to be a good person?" Ezra couldn't do anything but argue with himself. Suddenly he heard a voice inside his mind. 'Do you really think you know what is best for you? Do you really think you understand the purpose of this mess you're in? Son, you have confused yourself with what you think is best for you and what was supposed to be best for you. This is not what was planned for you, however you chose what you felt you should have.' Ezra lowered his hands and stared into the air. Softly he whispered, "How was I supposed to know what is best for me? I didn't choose this life. IT chose ME!" The voice continued, 'You knew exactly who you chose and why. You need to stop lying to yourself for the sake of your own future. You're not convincing anybody, Son. Stop for a second and listen. And I promise you, you will hear what you should begin to do. You are forcing your way through life. Free yourself and let it all connect in it's own timing. Not your own. Plus, you're worth a fight.'

Ezra couldn't say a word. Regardless if this scenario was all too familiar to him, he couldn't seem to find a solution for the repetition of incidents he has been through. He laid across the bed with arms open as wide as his eyes. Blinking was not an action he needed to waste energy on. His only focus was to simply stop thinking and close his eyes. He knew he was going to see Ayla during the next night and finding the right words to say were more important than finding the cure to cancer. The clock turned midnight when he closed his eyes. The sweat began to dry on his palms and the storm of his tremble had come to a calm when the door began to knock. "It's me Ayla..." The door began to open...