There’s Nights Like These.

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Tonight, it’s an unending longing.

I needed something, and there’s nothing, just the echo from a piano somewhere in the distance playing a haunting melody I almost recognize. It’s beautiful, but I am unappreciative. I’m projecting myself out there, on that cliff…. little, alone, feeling abandoned and just longing for someone to come back for me. I’m forced to watch everyone and everything go by because I’m trapped here… not physically, but by my heart.

I don’t lie to myself.

It’s not your fault, it’s not his fault. There are no demands for this, no restrictions. It’s my own doing. My decision. I’m the one who left me there, knowing that nights like this would happen, expecting them, dreading them. Still, I made the only choice I could. Oh, maybe it would be easier if I didn’t care. It’d be nice not to have any attachments…. too late for that now, isn’t it? Tomorrow, when the light shines here, the beauty will be exposed and I’ll forget the pale, ugly, selfish side of me that wishes I was everything. I’ll be grateful to just be SOMETHING again. Deep down I know, even as this night weighs heavily on mind and heart, leaving me lonely and wistful, it’s not as bad as it seems and it’ll be worth it…

When someone does come back for me.

Brand New Colony

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There’s a “Secret”

 

gothic glow

My collar is invisible

A girl carries it in her heart, not around her neck. I can feel it there, even if you never locked it, even if it seems I took it off. If you look.. you’ll find it. I stood here, with you and stared, not out the window, but at you. Finally looking at something near me… not some untouchable, unattainable beautiful thing I could never be a part of. Today I wandered alone and glanced through, thinking about what I’ve learned since I lost my first window.

Memories, like ghosts.

Dancing around my head, the many things I’ve felt, dreamed… hoped, since I began this journey. Some loved, some loathed, some painful to remember. I found friends, held on to lovers, gained, lost… yes lost. Lost so much. Discovered terrible things about myself, beautiful things about others. And my heart. I left it on your pillow, the way I’ve left flowers.

Cracks in the walls.

Goth1c0

 

 

The Waiting…

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Always watching, constantly searching.

I find my time is my own more and more again. It’s always all or nothing, floods or drought… never a peaceful gentle rain that would comfort me, make the world I’ve created blossom. I’ve withdrawn, yes, but cling to you in my heart. I make believe a little and then bury myself in creating, but that’s started to fail me once more and I’m left waiting.. waiting.. waiting.. waiting. Again

For what?

An epiphany? Inspiration? Something to distract me? Yes.. and you. It’s different from before… my waiting is not as empty, because there’s such sweetness in the time we do have… I just wish… there was more. I wish you’d carry me away.. to the ocean, to the mountains, to the swamp, where the sounds of waves crashing, the wind blowing through branches, the insects chirping.. would be the music we dance to.

And time would finally stand still.

Diffused

gothic glow

You glow; so bright.

I’m bathed in light, enveloped. You’re not close, but, I am touched, still. For all the stormy passion, the quietness, the calm.. the restraints. I am warmed by memories of soft words.

And, so, there’s a change.

Not forgetting, not a drastic turn of events… just a slight veer into something I used to know. Buried myself again. Not with the joy I used to have, but a confidence that comforts. Maybe I’m not so lost.

A retreat, but not in defeat.

 

St. John

Just Being

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I carry around windows.

I hang them upon nothing, always looking through. Not quite a part of things, not quite separate. I’ve tried to come in, reach through, but, I’m not ready. So, I look at this life, this world, through my windows.

I’ll still remember.

My windows frame snapshots of what was, could have been and what is. My heart has albums and I keep them close. You’re not wrong or right, you’re not real or an illusion. You’re not perfect. You’re not alone or surrounded. You’re not happy or unhappy. You’re not loveless. You aren’t drifting or following a course.

You just are.

Comhar Free Public Photo Studio

It’s like The Calm..

Up My Spine

I mark myself.

There’s pleasure or pain in every notch, scar or touch. Some are entirely both. I stand looking out, still feeling where your fingers, your words, your very being touched me. I know there’s a storm coming, but in this quietness… I ignore it. A conversation echoes in my ears; sometimes the storm is so beautiful you stop and stare even when you’re in danger. People can be like that. You could be like that.. and I’m mesmerized. You’re something I can’t look away from and something that could destroy me.

I keep trying to leave.

You deserve something more, but you won’t let me go. Not purposely, it’s in who you are, the understanding.. the way you just want to be. The way you whirl through my thoughts, my day, my nights.  I’m bent, but not broken. I’m wandering but not wholly lost. There’s cracks but I’m not entirely fractured.

You are the glue.

 

 

 

Into The Rain.

Raining

It’s raining again.

It’s beautiful, but I don’t notice, just staring into, through and beyond. I’m disjointed, pulled in different directions. Wanting it all and… nothing. Cruel, unkind and selfish. Words that mark a body like scars, they are my own. You deserve better. I deserve less.  Still, I enjoy the time, the inclusion, the lives of amazing souls who deserve more than I can offer.

Wind me up. I’ll go through the motions.

There’s a satisfaction in honesty.. but a loathing in recognizing the reality. I’ve juggled desires, lies and truths; I knew eventually something would falter. I wonder if it’s better to let every single one fall. I wonder how it got to this… the nights that were empty now too full. Was being alone and restrained better? Was missing him and just waiting preferable? Do I feel I was better off even before that, when the emptiness was consuming? Does rewinding days, weeks, months and starting over seem like a good idea?

Honestly.

 

Forced Open.

Opened

If I’m honest

I’m cut open. Exposed. Forced to hear and see exactly what I am.. a scared, hurt, self-absorbed little girl who wants to run away and not face any of this. But, still being honest, it’s also a horrible, terrible and empty… relief. At least I feel we’re past the impasse and I know where you stand. I never gave you as much credit as you deserved, I am selfish and wrapped up in my own head. I know I am. So, I didn’t realize how much I relied on your strength to keep me going. Until it was gone. It’s been gone for a while.

I feel weak

I want to close it up again, just look out and lie to everyone that I’m okay. But honestly, I know you’d want me to be strong and somehow face it. Your last words to me, heavy in my ears, full of hurt and loathing for what had to be done. THAT was worse than anything – your thinking it was what I wanted. Everything you thought, did and tried wasn’t enough, but some of the kindness shined though in every solution proposed. Even though it had to be this way, I’ll carry the best part of you with me and

keep on keepin on.

Akhal Teke

Take a Breath

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Stop and cuddle me.

I miss you, I miss my safe place. Where the words didn’t need to be spoken, where silence was just the afterglow. You knew what I meant when words failed me; you heard what I said before I formed the words. When my thoughts tumbled over each other; when the phrases refused to make sense- just spilling out, a jumbled mess of emotions, expressions, worries, fears.. everything just laid at your feet, you always said:

“Just breathe.”

More than a command, a comfort. Something I needed more than anything. Stability. Now there’s a crossroads. I sit and wonder why I didn’t see it coming, the plot was so thin, so barely veiled, but I’m left reeling. There’s not a simple answer, no simple decision, but I know you’ll choose what’s right for us because there’s still comfort in you. I’ll stay here, be here for you, for what you decide, and just..

..breathe.

Ironwood Hills

 

 

 

Under The Willow

The Willow

Mountains loomed on the horizon.

Under the willow, laughing in the shadows they threw, neither of us acknowledging the jagged peaks, the ominous rumbles beneath our feet. Focused on things right in front of us, we were shaken when the earth quaked and the world.. shifted. Thoughts stripped bare, emotions worn on sleeves, words unspoken.

Mountains between us.

Under the willow, dreaming, I don’t remember what it was like, dancing in the shadows of things we wouldn’t mention. I hear you calling… can I ignore them again? Part of me does and I reach out and touch… only the insurmountable challenges between us that I could never hope to overcome by myself.  They fill my vision.

You’re conveniently blind when it comes to me, pretending somethings never happened, were never spoken, were never felt. I look away from the slopes you’ll never attempt to cross and find the valley behind me… is beautiful.

This might be moving on.

Highwood Antlers National Park