32B's Blog

…where I write my words

I Miss You

I thought about you yesterday
And a couple of days ago
Then last week sometime
And again today
It seems the further time separates you
The more my mind reminds me of you
Strange indeed
Ran across your blog yesterday
Not at all what I was searching for
Trip to Haiti, eh?
Sounds awesome!
Not good at small talk
Or just “shooting the breeze”
So I’ll just say what I came here for…
I miss you
How?
That is an enigma
Why?
Before we met & since we departed
Conversations have not been the same
Topics have lost their flavor
Words from others are dull & stale
Discussions are no longer rich
Conversing just leaves me unsatisfied
I asked you the same question weeks ago
To which I received no response
So I decided to let things “be”
And accept things for what they “are”
But, what the hell is “be” and “are”?
Yes, I know I should stop questioning everything
But questions are how I make sense of things
How can I exercise a “be” and an “are”…
If I do not or cannot recognize them when exercised?
I’m thinking too much
And I’m pissed off
So, let me take a step back
And compose myself a little bit
Time is hardly sacred
Life is actually pretty long
No such thing as missed opportunities
I’m just looking at this glass all wrong
So, ignore the first 47 lines of this poem
Focus instead on the last one only
Here is where I will rest my head
On the strength of words spoken or written
Here is where I lie down my pride
On feelings probably better left hidden
I miss you

July 1, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Flatline

I never thought I, of all people, could kill love.  Never knew it would be my hands with its blood on them.  It started out such a beautiful summer day complete with sunshine, birds singing, and a sweet breeze that teased my skin.  By the end of the day, I was watching my love flatline before my eyes. 

My fault. 
All my fault. 

The hurt in his eyes.  The glisten of wetness reflecting off his pupils.  I looked into them and saw my reflection only. 

All because of me. 

He walks toward the door.  I jump up and run after him grabbing his arm to turn his body towards me while slamming the door closed again.  Wrong I am but determined not to let him walk away from me.  Justified he is but fighting to the wire is how I want to go.  He looks into my pleading eyes but quickly looks away.  The hurt I see kills me.  What can I say?  How can I make this right? 

I begin to speak. 
To explain. 
To apologize. 
To promise. 

Never again will this happen.  Never ever again, I promise. His face is frozen in hurt with hurt.  My words are not registering.  His mind is absorbed in my crime.  His ears refuse to hear my defense.  The jury is settled on a “guilty” verdict. 

Fear grabs me. 
“Do something!”
I yell at myself
“Think woman think!”
Panic

I take his hands in mine.  He snatches them away.  My fear intensifies as I hear us flatlining.  My heart races as I suddenly hear the steady hum of his. 

Void of life. 
Void of love.  
For me. 

“Please!” leaves my lips.  He continues to look away.  I grab his hands again and wrap them around my waist.   He stands there stoic but his hands remain where I place them.  I wrap my arms around his neck.  Then drop my hands to his chin.  I turn his face to look at me.  Only for a few seconds before he looks elsewhere.  He refuses to look at me.  Refuses to hear me.  Refuses, until now, to even touch me. 

I kiss his lips. 
No reaction. 
My eyes tear up.  

“Keep trying!” I tell myself.  I kiss his lips again.  He turns his face from me.  Tears escape me.  I hold his chin between my hands and kiss again.  His lips remain frozen. 

“You love me!”
I tell him. 
“He loves me”
I remind myself. 

I start to shake him.  I hit his chest and yell it again, “you love me!”  Tears run down my face now. 

“Try again dammit!”
I yell to myself. 

I kiss him again.  No life. 
Kiss again.  No love. 

My chest burdens from crying.  His hands drop from my waist. 

I am losing him. 

I kiss again holding my lips there longer.  Then again.  And again. Again.  Then I feel a pucker.  A loud beep.  I gasped loudly with hope.  I keep my eyes closed.  No false hope.  I kiss again.  Sure enough, he has puckered his lips.  I kiss again.  He kisses me back.  Weakly.  A kiss nevertheless.  I hold his face in my hands and kiss again. 

Hungrily. 
Ravished. 
Starving. 

I rise up on my tip toes.  I hold on for dear life.  Trying to salvage it.  To breathe love for me back into his heart.  To awaken him to me once again.  His hands find their way back to my waist.  I hear another loud beep.  I exhale.  We kiss again.  He holds my waist tightly.  Another beep.  Still kissing, he kisses me back.  I feel his tongue.  Now steady beeps are heard.  I cry harder.  I keep kissing him.  He keeps kissing me. 

I am too afraid to stop. 
Fearful I will lose him again. 
That we will flatline. 
Again. 

Too much fear to revive.  Too much fear to take that chance again.  I never thought I loved so much.  Never knew I would be the one fighting so hard.  I pull away.  Look into his eyes.  Anger still there.  But gone is the glisten of tears.  I have left a scar.  But love had come back. 

To think I almost lost it.

June 25, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , | 4 Comments

Friend

Stupid
that’s how I feel because I decided to open up
share a story
express a feeling
and vent some steam
only to feel stupid because you do not care
you respond as if it’s forced
coerced
required
mandated
what ever happened to leaning a shoulder
offering an ear
being there for a friend
as they were for you?
I guess times have changed
and although I feel stupid
that’s only a word used to mask another one
called Hurt
I feel hurt
no apologies for how I feel
what I feel
or what is going on in my life that has somehow disrupted the flow of yours
no apologies for my sorrow
my tears on your shoulder
or my voice in your ear
if I could I would take it all back
if I could I would have kept it to myself
if I could I would wish you’d taken off the mask sooner
give the Friend to someone who wants to use it
I can teach them how over time

June 9, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , | 2 Comments

Lost and Found

One day I lost my way
I looked up
Did not recognize any one
Felt uncomfortable in my environment
And decided to run away
They searched high and low for me
I searched high and low for me too
I searched for familiarity
Comfort
Peace
Love
Security
Overtime they gave up their search
In time I got to the bottom of my search
All that I was searching for was already with me
I had lost my peace
My happiness
My security
My mind
When I was with them
“Ol’ poor young soul” is what I hear them say
With their candlelight vigils and prayers
I went on a search to find who I am
What I believe
Where I stand
Why I am here
How I feel
And when I shall…
Notify them that I am not lost
They think they lost me
Lost is the best place to be

June 8, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , | 1 Comment

Mistake

A mistake
Often followed by regret
Remorse
Repentance
But I still feel a song
Swelling from within
Dripping from my lips
Every single day
Where there ought to be
There is none
No regret
No remorse
No repentance
The only mistake
My mistake
To ever stop singing the blues

May 26, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Intolerant

Unacceptable
Inexcusable
Intolerable

Constantly I explain my position and constantly I explain how I feel
I will not under any circumstances ever again and that’s that!

I am interrogated
I am ridiculed
I am pitied
I am disappointing

To everyone but myself

Am I alone in my thinking?

They accuse me of unforgiveness
But no matter how much I explain
They hold their position
and expect me to let go of mine

To not forgive is to not let go
To not free that person from their wrong towards you
To always seek and/or wish punishment
To never allow atonement when it is only fair

Those actions are no longer who I am
But I admit they once were all I was
I have forgiven and let go
But now I have simply become intolerant

Control over life and death I do not have
Control over who is in my life
I shall exercise until my death

Unacceptable
Inexcusable
Intolerable

May 24, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Charades

No words
Just gestures
He giggles
I chuckle
He writes letters in the air
I see nothing but his finger moving
He sighs
I shrug
He makes a heart with both hands
I nod slowly
He points to the clock on the wall
I glance at the clock on the wall
He points again at clock
I hold up 4 fingers for 4 o’clock
He shakes his head “no”
I throw up my hands and frown
He walks over to the clock
I wonder if this is in the rules
He makes a counterclockwise motion with his finger
I hold up 3 fingers, then 2, and then 1
He smiles and nods
I pat myself on my own back
He giggles
I chuckle
He rewinds time on the clock
He makes a heart with both hands
I watch him carefully
I nod understanding each gesture
He points to me
He makes a heart again
I frown confused
I point to me too
He nods his head “yes”
He walks over and pats me down
I giggle
He chuckles
“What are you doing?” I say
“Hey, you aren’t supposed to talk!” he says
“And you aren’t supposed to touch!” I say
“And you weren’t supposed to make me love you” he says
“You stole my heart some time ago”
I poke out my bottom lip
He kisses my bottom lip
I point to him
I make a heart with both hands
I point to myself
He points to his self
He makes a heart with both hands
He points to me
I melt
He smiles
No words
Just gestures

May 20, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , , | Leave a comment

Insane

Girl sits alone reading
Eating
Writing
Thinking
No one comes to sit next to her because she is alone
She does not sit with others because they are together
They do not understand her solitude
She does not understand the multitude
She retreats
They gather
They look at her and whisper that she must be strange
Weird
Nerdy
Insane
To sit there day after day alone with no one to communicate with
She looks at them and thinks they must be needy
Bored
Empty
Insane
To repeatedly congregate in such numbers with no time to be with themselves
She never sees them alone
They never see her with others
She finds comfort being alone
They find comfort not being alone
She concludes they will fail if ever alone
They conclude she will fail if ever with others
She thinks they will never understand her
They think she will never understand them
They talk
Laugh
Dance
Sing
As time goes by
She sits
Reads
Writes
Thinks
That no one is truly sane
We are all of varying degrees of insanity
Same condition
Different symptoms
Insane

May 19, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , | 3 Comments