I wonder abt him sometimes, while I lay in the shroud of wild darkness and watch his breaths come in and out of him.
What visions lurk behind those black eyes?
What words stay caught between his perfect teeth, desperate to be spoken to any ears that could listen?
What fiery specters sway about in his brilliant mind, burning out so that a new one may pass through?
A new dream.
A brighter burn.
There is nothing ever set in stone.
Though stones may be set
and exchanged for promises.
Kept silently.
Sometimes they are empty.
And neither knows why.
An action, carelessly tossed out
into the cool nights of October
can be carried off by the slightest breeze.
That sudden gust
becomes a whirlwind, unbridled and wild.
And then all is lost
from what we once called heaven.
So what’s the weight of a wandering heart?
Is it measured in the light beneath me
showing I am less than I was 10 days ago?
Can it be calculated in the curious eyes
coming into consciousness of the ways of the world?
Will it display in years that once felt worked and earned,
but now taste bitterly wasted?
All crumbled by the hands
of longing for more.
And wanting.
Was I always destined for make believe?
To stand idly by and watch myself disappear
to the life that you wanted?
I said goodbye to the old days that morning.
But I never thought that meant
a farewell to my smile.
To the passing of iridescent joy in my eyes.
To the idea that forever existed.
It doesn’t.
There is no forever for the fickle.
And your place was never by my side.
There is so much…
so many things better
and far more worthy
for you
than me
out on the horizon.
Follow that vermillion afterglow.
Find yourself in the warmth and
float away.
O brother, where art thou?
I search for your face
and all I can find is thin air.
Are you so lost in the wake of yourself
that destruction has claimed all of you?
I am left grasping for the fibers of good.
They lived within you once.
But we both know
how fleeting innocence can be.
I wish you believed
all the ideas that you preach.
I never asked for
what you gave me.
Only ever wanting to just be.
Like everyone else.
I mean… on the inside.
But you beat me and
beat me and
beat me, until I broke.
And then, through bloodied tears,
I obliged.
Your crooked smile creeping across your face,
with the finish in close sight.
I never asked for
what you gave me.
For this burdening sickness
I carry on curved shoulders.
But there is no way
I can think of
to make you
take it back.
So I’ll thank you instead.
And right to your face.
For making me stronger.
Though most times, I have to push the convincing.
My mind battles your demon daily.
But I wish you knew.
That I will revel in the death of you.
That I will never feel safe again, even after that.
And that I haven’t for all the years
I have drawn breath since we were young.
That I can’t see my own reflection,
without seeing yours behind it.
That there are things about me that
so easily make my stomach turn and I wretch
because I did what you asked
because I didn’t know what else to do.
Because your blood is my blood.
Thank you.
| 11th Sep 2012✧23:3812 notes
|
The need to run for escape is becoming an almost unbearable feeling. Finding strength to stifle my screams is near failing. Each day the walls inch closer. Each day the voices linger longer. The say I had once is trapped in my throat. My upper hand, chopped off at the wrist.
You continue to notice me crumbling and leave me behind anyway.
I really thought about staying. Wanting so much just to rest, locked in your arms long enough for us to drift off. To wake up next to you and watch you sleep for a moment. To see the slow rise and fall of breath in your lungs and the soft fluttering of your eyes while you dreamt in those early hours. And then, at the first signs of light, I could make my way around the room to gather my things. Perhaps even collecting a small something of yours to take with me. Something with your scent attached. For when I want to live this night again. But there is nothing I feel comfortable leaving you without. Because all I really want to leave with is your heart. I pressed my fingers against your chest and into those inked knuckles all night, wishing for passage. Hoping that if I could get past the irons, my grip wouldn’t fail me. Hindsight tells me those painted knuckles are a symbol of barrier, a warning to unwelcome trespassers. And I still wonder about the suit behind your ear. The hidden meanings in all the pieces of you. So many I have yet to see. So many I have yet to understand. I wonder if I will ever be given the chance. Or why I think I might be deserving of such. I kissed you there anyway. Relishing the burn against my lips that I knew I would feel all those months ago. And I loved every second. I loved every second of my lip caught between your perfect teeth and the pain that tingles across them when I smile or speak now. I loved every second of my hands tangled in yours, held above my head. And you pressing against me. You pressing into me and the rough of your whiskered cheek on my neck. I loved every second I could swallow every inch of you over and over again and that it was me making you groan with abandon. I loved every second your tongue invaded my mouth, stealing my breath away. Leaving me wanting. All of those seconds are mine. But I fear them. Because in stealing a look into Pandora’s box, I cannot deny that I want to see more. And I cannot deny that I have put myself in this situation. But I like being there. Because it’s where you were. The hours that you gave me will remain precious to me. Even if you go back to your island and tell stories about notches. We all have those, I suppose. And maybe, if I am on the tip of your tongue, then maybe it means I am not far from your mind. Or where I really want to be. And I’d remain there, yours, for as long as you’d allow.
I really thought about staying. REALLY thought about it. When the conversations of others quieted, my thoughts ran wild. The what-ifs regarding a less than sure thing, because it is a new thing, roared in the space between my ears. They still roar. So what if I did stay? What if I gladly squandered away everything I know to chance? Would any of the words you’ve whispered to me hold true? Would any of mine to you? And what level of foolish do I land on if they don’t? There is not one thing I wanted more than to obey you when you asked me to stay the night. To please… just stay. I wanted to risk exactly everything just to love you instead. Just to love YOU instead. Even if that meant just loving you for one whole night. But I know myself. And I know I wouldn’t be satisfied with only that. Not only one. As it stands now, I’m quaking. You see, one night isn’t enough to memorize the peaks and valleys of your skin. Or to learn the all of tattooed colors you carry and their stories. Or to lotion your scars. Or to sit with you simply. Or to rub your shoulders after a day hunched over while ideas flowed. Or to sit in a mountain of cotton sheets and drink coffee and play card games in our underwear. Or to lose myself completely in the perfect symmetry of your face and the clear blue depths of your endless glacier eyes. I really thought about staying. Knowing that this path I now walk has and end but not being able to see where that end lies is a burden. I’m growing tired of its weight and yet, without being able to glimpse the end yet, I have to keep my shoulders heavy and push on. Just a while longer.
Just a little while longer.
I want to move to a city and live in its heart. I want to ride behind a lover on a motorcycle, topless, with my legs wrapped around his waist. I want to throw my voice into the wind and forget about it. I want to sleep on the beach while the ocean licks my feet and sings to me. I want to laugh out loud at nothing in a crowded place. I want to dance on tabletops without anyone watching. I want a love that burns through the ages making people forget about Romeo and Juliet because we loved ultimately. I want to swim the length of the Rio Grande. I want to feel the organic wiring among the living. I want a baby. And I want another baby. I want to kiss you in the rain. For the second time. I want your blue eyes to swallow me. I want to dig up my darkest secrets and tell the world. I want to sacrifice chocolate and marshmallows to a fire. I want to grow my hair long. Even when it’s white. And I want to wear it plaited. I want to smile and mean it. Everyday. All day. I want to run without embarrassment following me. I want smaller breasts. For a week. I want to live cliff side overlooking a forest. I want to build a house from scratch with my own two hands and the strength of my back. I want to miss you every time you leave so I can embrace you tighter every time you return. I want to taste a star. I want to sing on a stage to the masses and not feel shy. I want to sleep in a cloud. I want to know myself. I want to be happy.
When it comes down to you, I am and will always be that girl who hates her body and doesn’t understand her face. It’s lonely here, living in nostalgia. But at least the memories of our one and only ever night together make good company when they come to pass.
I hope you think of me as I think of you.
The wet scent of earth rose up against our slick skin while
the strum of your digits against my veins echoed sweetly, into the darkness.
What a melancholy song, you tuning my heart.
Until heartbreaks and the ache floods.
Quick, remember me a time when I was uncluttered and clean.
A time when…
Only reblogging because I added to it!
The wet scent of earth rose up against our slick skin while
the strum of your digits against my veins echoed sweetly, into the darkness.
What a melancholy song, you tuning my heart.
Until heartbreaks and the ache floods.
Quick, remember me a time when I was uncluttered and clean.
A time when my eyes could spy the way
without your fingers outstretched restraint.
The years have passed.
Now apparent in the lines my smile pushes out.
I can still drive by and pick out your apartment.
My hand prints are there, pressed in steam.
And I knew those eaves so well back then…
You found me with ease
in the thrumming of your quickened pulse, drunk on lust.
And maybe now, it’s you that is missing.
Ask me, I’m at the ready.
Knowing the chase for the unattainable is a long road.
But once I’m in your atmosphere, there is no spin control.
And I’d relish the vertigo if it meant being under you.
I never minded your flesh and dirt under my nails.
I heard you were back in town and that
you brought my memory with you.
And I wish you could have
-would have-
stayed away.
But to write you out of my mind
would be to erase history.
The removal of the fingerprints
you pressed into the back of my neck
as we stamped our drunken feet
across cobblestones has proven itself
a most tedious task.
I have tried but I can see it still.
The smile and wave over distance.
Worlds colliding.
And we still speak to and of one another.
I drank your spirit in that night.
Filled myself to the gills
and went back for seconds.
Thirds.
Fourths…
And I drank it again when you arrived.
The taste of your familiar
brought me back to life.
I would drink you still but
all of the lights have burnt and
the company has gone swiftly.
My voice is lost.
Forever lost when it comes to eye contact.
When it was you and me against,
I could hold your gaze till doomsday.
Now… I know my place with you too well.
I tell myself make the break and hit the gas
but my feet have gone missing.
I want nothing more
at this moment
than to touch
the softness of your back.
And for you to wrap your once loving arms
around me and love me again.
But I can feel your hatred
as you lay beside me.
It is heating this room.
And if you were to look at me,
I would feel your green eyes
blazing into the back of my neck.
Decaying me.
Wishing me to disappear.
Wishing me to rot and melt into earth.
Wishing me gone.
So you would never have to look at me again.
I feel as if I have brought your world to an end.
And robbed you of your last adventure.
And these tears
that just two nights ago
were tears of joy,
now sting my face as if
a part of you,
hurting me more than I already do.
You once thought me a beautiful creature.
Now all you feel is disgust.
But I am sorry.
I love you.
And I will keep on loving you.
Knowing you won’t.
I can only hope that I am not right about that.
And you will love me again.
And wrap those once loving arms
around me as you did
when I was still beautiful.
We pulled up to Rumbay and I was out of the car like lightning.
“B, come ON!” I pleaded with my friend. 2 weeks had gone by since I lost my ID and I needed my fix. Going out had become a habit since the break up. The best distraction for me, at the time anyway, was to just go out, drink a little and get lost in the beats while the night slipped away. And that’s exactly what I had been doing since M left to go back to the west coast.
“C, I swear girl. Sometimes you need to slow down! But don’t worry, you know I got you. Will is here too and you KNOW he’s got you. What are you drinking tonight?” B was my best friend. I hadn’t known him for that long no one had ever been nicer to be and we could talk about anything. Probably helped that he was a decent amount older than me too. But aside from that we had a lot in common.
“B, what am I ALWAYS drinking?” Malibu rum with lemon and ice. Easy and fast.
We stood at Jim’s bar and talked and hugged friends. Eyed the room for our treasures. He found his pretty quickly. He was picky but not like I was. And tonight, I had something specific I was looking for. I ordered another drink, tossed it back and ordered another. As I took my first sip, my eyes fixed on exactly what it was I had been seeking. My prize. Two actually. Wearing dog tags. But first, I had to get their attention. And I knew that wouldn’t take long.
“B, I found it. See you at the close buddy!” I grinned and he gave my ass a squeeze.
“You’ll be next door later? Troy’s bar?”
“Yep. You’ll want to see this.” He kissed my cheek and I was on a mission.
I moved toward the dance floor, scanned the darkness for someone to move with, found him and slid in quick. We made small talk into each others ears. Mostly smiled and danced. The DJ mixed a slower song and he was grinding his cock against my ass. It was pretty clear what he wanted from me. I liked the way he felt behind me even though I was tired of the same old moves. The deliberate push against my ass. The hardness growing in his cock. But I leaned my head back against his chest. His breath rushed against my neck and smelled of whiskey and cigars. His hands explored my body over my clothes. The warmth felt nice, spreading slowly from his palms and fingers into the places he touched. I put my hands behind me and rubbed his cock through his pants, dancing and moving against him a little harder. Our song ended and I remembered why I was out here in the first place. I scanned the room again. They were both still there. Laughing and looking around. I made eye contact. It was time.
Yesterday morning came too fast and too early for my liking. As usual, I was running late, having never quite adjusted to the life of a working mother. I may never fully adjust though I’ve made due. But I’m up and showered and dressed and my make up is done and my hair is dried and bags are ready and coffee is creamed and breakfast milk is ready but Mr. Baby is still sleeping.
Take a breath.
Wake Mr. Baby up to find a huge pee spot that I don’t have time to properly clean up. Dump half a bottle of rubbing alcohol into the puddle accidentally because my hands and arms are full of Mr. Baby’s sleeping body. Throw a towel on it, press, keep moving.
Grind my teeth.
I carry him, at arms length, to the changing table. We giggle while I dodge kicks and flailing hands to get him cleaned up and dressed and then we are ready to leave. But not before he makes me chase him room to room to get his shoes on. (To be a carefree, always laughing, smiley almost 2 year old I would give both my arms.) I finally get him caught and THEN we are ready. After I tie his shoes twice. My little tester, foreshadowing the future.
We FINALLY get out the door. I am 30 minutes late at this point and there is a meeting at my office that I need to be at. I still have to go to the paint store after dropping off Mr. Baby at daycare and then go to the bank to make the work deposit I couldn’t make last night because it was closed and I lost track of time (who me?).
Mr. Baby dawdles. We get to the car. I throw my bottomless purse/trashbag in the passenger seat and go back to get him. He is a few feet away and he is standing still and looking up at the sky, eyes wide. I envy him for a moment and then notice a worm making her way across the sidewalk. Coming home from the grocery store I laugh to myself. An old inside joke. I point the worm out to him and he is instantly amazed.
Together we stood there, crouched, hands on our knees just watching this silly worm slink along the concrete. She eventually made it to the grass and Mr. Baby looks up at me, sheer wonder in his eyes and face. 10 minutes have gone by while we watched this worm and I couldn’t care less about meetings and paint and deposits and traffic while he is smiling at me like that.
“Whoa, Mommy” he says, his chubby fingers extended toward the wriggling body as it disappears among the blades. He looks up again, steps toward me and hugs my legs.
There is always something to stop and take notice of, no matter how rushed and stressed and irritable we are. There are always things out there to wonder about and be amazed by, no matter how small or insignificant they seem to be.
Thank you everyday for this reminder, my sweet boy.