This Moment Is Yours

On the prowl again, here I am, looking for a quick fulfillment that results in nothing but feelings of hollowness.
I’m half-expecting to quench a thirst that ultimately leaves me feeling more and more dehydrated.
With each passing day, any hope of a meaningful connection becomes an afterthought at best.
What I strive for on any given night is not the same desire that I will have the next day. 

I offer no deception. I offer no condolences for anything I’ve done before or may do in the future.
But if you accept me as I am, at this place at this time, this moment is yours for you to do as you would like.

A hypnotic force, with each sway of your body, pulls me in despite my efforts to look away. 
Long gazes, batted eyelashes, and fidgety lips, you are making this entirely too easy.
These compliments that flow from my mouth so effortlessly have been rehearsed hundreds of times before.
With each round of drinks, my words become bolder, my actions more direct, and my intentions more known. 

I offer no deception. I offer no condolences for anything I’ve done before or may do in the future.
But if you accept me as I am, at this place at this time, this moment is yours for you to do as you would like.

When I wake in the morning, this will not be what I want; it’s my wish for this to be something you quickly learn.
Though these demons exercise their rights at their convenience, it is something I’ve come to accept.
I wish this were sufficient. I wish you were enough. I question it all while still searching for reasons to leave.
My life is such, and I place this spineless, cowardly blame squarely on my shoulders.

I offer no deception. I offer no condolences for anything I’ve done before or may do in the future.
But if you accept me as I am, at this place at this time, this moment is yours for you to do as you would like.

Like leeches you are, unnoticeable attachments that all too soon slowly start sucking the life out of me.
Until one day, all that remains of me are pieces of rotting flesh and an identity that is no longer mine.
Knowing that I have felt this way before, aware I am, of the dead ends we soon will reach.
The words may be different, but the message is always the same. This is not enough. You are not enough.

I offer no deception. I offer no condolences for anything I’ve done before or may do in the future.
But if you accept me as I am, at this place at this time, this moment is yours for you to do as you would like.

Like a bee drawn to raw honey, I’ll move towards the next available option once this runs dry.
When your problems become mine and our lives become real, I know it’ll be time to detach myself from the equation.
The fewer opportunities for your drama to besiege me, the more removed from the situation I can continue to be.
Before life lifts its wretched head and makes these circumstances difficult, ugly, and unwanted, I’ll be far out the door. 

I offer no deception. I offer no condolences for anything I’ve done before or may do in the future.
But if you accept me as I am, at this place at this time, this moment is yours for you to do as you would like.

There will be no guilt or remorse. I will regret nothing. I will feel nothing. 
These reprehensible events of my past have led me to where I find myself today.
These actions are results of insecurities and lies, hesitations, and decisions gone awry.
How I could even offer a conscious ounce of compassion in a defining moment is an utter mockery of itself.

I offer no deception. I offer no condolences for anything I’ve done before or may do in the future.
But if you accept me as I am, at this place at this time, this moment is yours for you to do as you would like.

This is about absolutely hating the person you have become...every single moment of every single day.

Written in 2014

Copyright, The Poetry of Bryan Buser