Maybe it was meant to be,
you and I,
the distance of strangers apart.

It's irrelevant how;
the relevancy is in the whys
that allowed me to wander from happiness.
The late-night ceiling-gazing takes its toll
and the healthy mind will soon turn on itself.
The dust-strewn landscape full of the rejected
permeates the thoughts of us all
and believe you me it's difficult to ignore.
Time after time after time
the words sit their on the tip of my tongue
but my teeth clamp shut and what comes out
is the muffled self-deprecation of a lunatic
trapped in an asylum of his own making.

A cycle appears,
relentlessly revolving,
ad infinitum
ad nauseum.

Maybe it all stems from the memory of a vague dream
I had when I was a child,
being drowned by the only woman
to have ever loved me up to that point.
Often I ask why the night sky is so fucking far away
before realising that it is not the object of my desire;
that is much closer.
And I know I'm not alone,
but in another context I am,
sharing the pain and the frustration with the myriad other rejects
lying helplessly in that wasteland,
dragging ourselves along on broken fingernails
crying out for the solace of a held hand,
perfumed fingertips on a heavy shoulder,
the dry kiss on a cheek hot with anger.

I'm neither perfect nor unique
but I can bring a disgruntled universe into a living room
and show it exactly who I am and what I can do.
But I'm as much a martyr as I am a pariah,
Abraham's Ishmael,
the white whales' Ahab.
They've arrived, checked in,
and I've waved the keys in front of them
before throwing them out into the cold wet night.
You may call me heartless,
but I remember each and every one of them-

-ad infinitum
ad nauseum
I think you could do more work on the aural aesthetic of this. It's not the most exciting read, sonically, and I always think those sort of elements play a huge part in my enjoyment of a piece. Where you have solid diction and syntax - it's like a very good, well made, beautifully put together cardboard box. For me it's the aural attributes that make it a bit more exciting.

There were also some great images in here, and some latin. So there's that.

Hope you're well.
"the words sit their on the tip of my tongue" - there?

I appreciate this piece, but I did not like the switch from the general to the ever-persistent "I" in the last two stanzas. I think this piece would have been better served with keeping the voice of the first stanza, though I know it would have been more difficult to construct.

Still, interesting ideas there, just a bit cumbersome.
This is not a pipe