The better half that is you

January the 1st deserved mention, but unfortunately got it not.
No matter, there have been days and days after, minutes and moments that brought warmth and energy and smiles and tears - tears of joy, tears of longing, tears of bittersweet emotion. Words. Words that were heavy with emotion and feeling, feeling so pure, so selfless, that it is indescribable, possibly because I can only wish to be so myself.
You are light, you are warmth, you are the sun. The real sun. The only sun. The summer sun.
The strawberry blond that shines and ripples and bursts with fruit-energy. Fresh. Rich. Lush.
Green grass, that needs bare feet to feel alive.
Cold mirror on flushed pink cheeks. Relief. Slowing down of pulse.
The pulse that races. In your presence. In your absence. In my fantasies. Us.
Indescribable. Threads that we wove together, you and I, threads that we kept adding strands to, weaving side by side, shoulder to shoulder. Flaxen thread, ebony silk, warm-brown-soft.
I do not need your open arms to know my worth. Your eyes say it all.
I do not need assurances of loyalty, of faith, of belief, of hope. Your voice radiates it, with laughter, with gruffness, with humility, with passion.
And yet, yet it matters, somehow...somehow it feels good to hear it.. when you say

I love you

burn me...please?

i was the candle and you were the moth. then you were the candle and i was the moth. we burned. you faded. i went out. distance brings cold. do you want to play with fire again? my heart says yes. my mind says no. my soul...i dont understand the language of my soul. i await your answer only.

The lion cub

I’m blotting out several sounds at once. I want to disbelieve what I’m seeing, what you’re showing to me, but its taking effort. I keep getting distracted, but…this is how it goes down. Yes.

Things dictate themselves, over and over again, like lab rodents, hamsters in their wheel, guinea pigs who need ulterior motives. And you ask me to do what?

You give me memories that haunt me for hours and hours and days later. Memories that I sometimes find difficult to escape from. I want release, but do I really? I wish they did not exist, but now I will accept them, embrace them...but make them my own?

I am in a state of mental anguish. Anguish. Chaos. Pain.
Sound. Noise. Heat.
Feeling.

Warmth radiates out from our little circle, our alcove of peace and security. You may try to penetrate it, but you'll probably come up with nothing. It is empty now, polluted by, nothing in particular, and yet very much.

So God help me.

While i wait i might as well discourse

I do not know what I am doing. I did not know I had such little self-control. I want to stop..then I want to start...then I want to stop again - and it goes on and on. Is it wrong? Is it right? Can I explain my actions to someone else? If I cannot, does it mean that it is wrong? Or does it just mean that this is something that other people will not understand?

Of course it is wrong. Of course. Too much happiness is outlawed. It is illegal. It is unfair. One person cannot have so much. I'm trying to stick with it, but soon nature will snatch it back from me. That's how nature goes, that's how it's supposed to work.

Adios love.

distress signals...

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I'm sending out distress signals. Smoke signals. Calls for help.
I ask for help...and then I shun what I get. But I think that's only because I never get the sort of help I crave. Never that right kind of reassurance and comfort. No.

At the moment I'd like nothing more than for someone to release the grip my hands have on my head, and to cradle it in their lap instead...and to whisper words of comfort and assurance that may mean nothing...but feel good anyway.

I'm waiting.

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*gasp* ... *choke*

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Oxygen-deprived, and selfishly coveting that life-giving source.

I think I'm ok now.


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