when i say im going through some things, that means im stuck in quicksand and i am drowning. you cant see that? when i sit in silence with my eyes open, it means that i am crying out for help, why can't you hear me? if i am late for lunch and rush in smiling with my mouth and not my eyes, you should see that. when our plans are abruptly cancelled and i do not reschedule its because defeat has weighed me down like a ton of bricks. you should come get me. when you tell me to try and i retreat into myself its because terror looks back at me in the mirror. didn't you see the reflection? when you don't hear my voice, see my tears, sense my distress or see the complete destruction of me...it means you finally showed up and touched my cold hands....and if you still don't understand, you should read my note.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Sometimes I sit still, thinking of you. And I am smiling when I don't realize it. I'm remembering your eyes as they searched mine for the same wish...us. As if by design, we laughed together at unspoken words. However, the butterflies in the center of my being and your anxiousness to kiss me spoke a thousand love languages. Excitement and fear filled the small space between us and we are closer than we have ever been. I try at a a sexy pout but on the way, get lost in yours. It's so difficult to take my eyes away from your beautiful lips and when I do, I am again lost in your eyes. Keeping my distance from you seems impossible and I reach for you. Unable to resist, I intertwine our fingers intamitely. The butterflies multiply and create a new dance inside of me. The space which is left between us becomes dangerously urgent. Finding our hands no longer an acceptable distraction, I look up and see you staring at me. I melt. Into you. Warmth. Love. Everlasting. Timeless. Exact and indestructible. And it feels incredible.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
still inspired by nothing i found my way to the fireplace and stared into it. the flames fought for attention like my thoughts. one jumping in front of the other in an attempt to establish power. worried about everything, I wished the fire could burn the memories from my brain. too many things happened. Too many things gone wrong in the past. i hung my head and felt the heat of the flames on my scalp. maybe it could work. maybe i would singe all the negative hopeless pieces into ashes. Then i could brush them away. dusting my hands in a dismissive good riddance rhyme. the sounds of my hands moving against each other meant it was over. and i could start over. except for the dismaying fact that I, indeed, had to let go. pulling my hands apart seemed impossible. not looking away from them, tightly clasped, concluded the obvious. that i rather enjoy the misery of endless consideration for what should be left in the dust.