The Inept Clown

I have come to realize
I am incapable of understanding a love for me that isn't broken
Incapable of understanding the love I receive isn't blemished.

Yet, I feel so put out.
Am I capable of being loved?
The love that a father gives to his son
A kind of passionate, phenomenon I've come to adore

Maybe I pose the question wrong,
Perhaps I am just as incapable of loving.
I don't think my heart really believes this,
Unless all of these times I cried
I've just been shedding tears of a clown.
Oh God, my God.
Please don't prove me to be a fool.

Why does it seem so impossible?
I am in a constant battle between logic and formula
Yet the formula makes no logic

It makes as much sense as someones innocence being stolen,
Or someone really loving me for who I am.
Oh my God
Help stop tears from flowing down my face.
I can taste the makeup that has been covering me
Maybe I am the clown...

I just want to be reminded that I am loved,
Instead of how weak and broken I am.
I still carry this same hunger for love I have all my life.
Packed up like a suitcase that never leaves my side
The biology of it calls my name.

I love with no boundaries
But that does little to ease the sting of being lonely.
My body somehow reacts to closeness like one would react to a disease
Rejecting the contact before it spreads.

Time will move on and with it old friends.
Even as I fight against this and try to keep these connections

Alas, my fight is like a child trying to stop an escalator
It has already been set in motion
I can only feel the movement under my feet,
Yet remaining incapable to change anything about it.

Poem by J.A.D. © 2007