I would have liked to show you
the things that I love
and cherish—
things that warm my
indifferent exterior.
Right now my eyes gloss
looking at the pale blue
sunset fading
to a persimmon orange.
Oh how exquisite the water
is rippling against the otherwise
still ocean.
If you were still here, I’m sure
I would have shared
my favorite spot with you.
And we would sit side by side—
you drinking chai, me peppermint.
And we would be content
in the silence,
because the comfort we mutually
felt when together
allowed for no words
to be spoken.
And after our tea, I would
have taken you—
to the grainy damp sand and
insisted stubbornly
for you to take your shoes off.
One must always feel the luminous earth
between one’s toes at the beach.
Each grain a sparkling gift
from the gods of the sea--
and if lucky, we would find the
quintessential shell.
A shell so white,
it resembled virgin snow.
Shell hunting is quite possibly
my most prized pastime.
I had forgotten it lately,
And had hence forgotten—
to mention it to you.
You see, the ocean is where
my happiness lies,
where my stress-ridden shoulders
can slump in relaxation.
I can feel calm near the water,
listening to it lapping in the distance
playing a never-ending game of tag
with toddlers and golden retrievers.
But I forgot to tell you all of this.
I didn’t allow for you
to see the bits of me that come
together to create this quirky puzzle
that at times, I cannot even
find the pieces to.
I’m sorry.
Oh, now it is dusk.
The forthcoming night is aglow
with barely visible, crisp white
boats, in the distance gently
rocking back and forth to the rhythm
of the earth.
A fading sight
which can easily be appreciated
or unfortunately ignored.
I will take a picture for you
so you can pretend you were
here— sitting beside me,
drinking tea,
and watching the world fall to sleep.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
She looks good,
ReplyDeleteI'd missed that face.
Even her cheesy grandma sweater,
Wears that only she can pull off.
We flirt as if no time had passed.
Her nose crinkles.
That perfect button nose,
Signals her inner joy.
And I melt,
Pointing it out as I must.
We drink to live.
Life itself isn't satisfying for either of us.
We get closer.
I tell her this is all for fun, nothing serious.
She's one to run at a future that is premeditated.
A small kiss before the bars.
A jump into the deep end.
Long suppressed feelings begin to overflow
As a boiling pot left unattended.
On are walk she opens up,
A vulnerability I had always wanted to see,
Yet kept at a distance for safe keeping.
We walk into a past we'd both left,
That we refer to as 'frog'.
I tell her she's too drunk, be careful.
She storms off.
I remember the many nights of waiting,
Of heartbreak as she is uncontainable.
A peacock is not meant to be caged.
But I strangely fall for that.
But decide I won't wait around tonight.
I�ve learned from past mistakes, so I go home,
Thinking I made the right decision.
6AM--alarm buzzes.
Back to the bars.
Drunk by the time she calls.
Something happened.
She is hurt.
Because I left her.
She cries in distress at it all.
A new move that took a wrong turn.
A first night that tells her to run home.
To find a place safe.
I call insistently.
Never sobering up, only following my whims.
I text over and over to no response.
I want to see her,
To comfort her.
To say,
This was just one bad night,
All of life will get better.
A cloud grows in the back of my mind,
A storm I try to control,
But can't.
I finally sober up,
But the damage has been done.
She says it's obvious
I only want her as more.
My intentions never fully understood.
'Get out of my life'
The first time I have said this,
Not for unreciprocated feelings,
But the disbelief that,
She could treat my like shit and still blame me.
She is a mess.
Has issues that I had overlooked.
A narcissism that might even rival mine.
Fears of anything and everything committing.
A small dose of alcoholism
That she uses to pass the time.
And a love for ketchup that's disturbing.
With all of this,
I still like her.
She is a beautiful spirit that wasn�t meant for this time.
Too many distractions.
She was meant to be outside in simpler times.
Where she could purely grow.
She is undeniably loyal to those she loves,
A characteristic people never fail to ignore.
She might not agree, but I know her.
I know she will be happy and make others happy.
And she is right.
I do want more.
It's a challenge for me to hold in emotions when sober,
And alcohol leads to an unavoidable train wreck.
I do everything wrong,
Yet she had continually forgiven me.
But she is right.
We should not continue talking as friends.
As a tool to use as a crutch.
And a powerlessness to move on.
Writing is a needed release.
To allow another breath,
Another day.
I will tuck this away
With a past I won't forget,
But won't live in anymore.