blasphemy of love

once again, i find another bukowski piece that's somehow managed to capture the exact sentiments:



in my beginning
as with every human
being, we're
born early
into the truest sense
of the word NEED.

I was given the sustenance
of existence
until I was able to live without
any further original need
and so I boldly, naively believing
and brightly blazing
thrust myself
forward into life, filled
with an insatiable apatite
for self reliance, with
an almost curiously anti-dependant
desire; to be whole
without any outside force,
to rely on nothing
and no one else.

I searched and settled
and pondered and cursed thin air
and most often through the years I've
found myself in life
continuously fighting an almost
insurmountable surreal desire-
to be
needed by another...
I've finally come to know now unequivocally
that I am NOT, never
have been
and never will be.

I am a man, but I am not a leader
nor a follower or a Father.

through disenchantment and heartbreak,
through disappointment and
disillusionment, through false promises
given by and taken from me
through the whole of my
self-sustained life
it has ultimately
led me back within myself-
clarity has come for me
through a disintigration of truth
an obliteration of hope
a caricature of self
a malignancy of soul
and a blasphemy of love
most people know
every fire needs fuel
to continue,
or it must succumb
to an inevitable
cool weightless ash
and a dissipating smoke.

my dilemma has been that
I feel no need to seed
another human
into being
in need
of
original love to survive,
to endure another plight of life
in utter ultimate
useless
needlessness...
so to those I've loved I can only say this:

"I knew I wanted to be with you,
but I never needed you,
I thought you might have needed me,
but you didn't and you don't.

I apologize for not knowing that
better back then.

but I promise you this
My Loves,

it'll never happen again."