I try so hard to believe the words I write
But sometimes I admittingly fall short
And I am left deciding between knocking on Death’s doorstop
And reciting the mantra “change can be beautiful”
A few thousand, life altering, times.
Tonight I am a queen throwing a tantrum party with glossy eyes
And misty, tangible fears.
Tomorrow I will put on my favorite dress and lipshade
And sing a hopeful prayer.
Death storms in, flabberghasted that my thickness, my
Soft spoken voice, and my poor decisions has not thwarted me off course.
In truth I feel alienated even though I am causing the issue to
To forgo an earthly landing.
I feel sick to my stomach. The fire has been wiped out of my
Chest, and most days I sit in rooms where everything should feel beautiful
And all I can see is the damage.
Death keeps playing cryptograms with Kindness and
Behind their togetherness, an exhausted me
Is trying to decode the next step.
Most days I feel like ashes and embers.
Somehow though, the fire still roars
Even miniscule as it is.
Somehow, I keep going.
Please read!! Sarah L**d is the best fiancé that you will ever have. You’ll never find another like her. The way Sarah treats you with such care and compassion is second to none. You’re very lucky to have her. I hope you don’t go having sex with other women behind her back, because I highly doubt that she’d cheat on you. Don’t take Sarah for granted. You never know when she’ll not be here on this earth anymore. None of us live forever. I know you are all too easily influenced by some of your male friends, but genuine friends wouldn’t manipulate you into sleeping with other women, and drinking tons of alcohol, and anything else that’s demoralising. They’re not your “friends”. They’re just people who live in the same building as you, who get a kick out of manipulating you. They want you and Sarah to split up. Pleas don’t get yourself into behaviours you’ll regret for the rest of your life. You need safeguarding from them so-called “friends”. Especially J and C. You don’t see the manipulation coming, but I start to sense it. Also, Rosemary is beginning to manipulate you, and Theresa. They’re not friends. They’re cunning con-artists and trouble causers. You know who your REAL friends are.
Pretty much have been saying I love you to a man
Who goes in strategic circles of silence.
This has been pretty much the bane of my existence
My adult life with each encounter of another blurry faced beauty.
Perhaps this is why my love life has a loveless landscape.
I used to think that the man who walked out of my life
Over 6 months ago was the closest I had to ever finding a voluptuous, overflowing love.
But soon I realized no one has ever had the courage to love me,
Not even I.
I miss the sea, I miss it’s foamy waves, I miss the pull of it’s power, I miss it’s life giving energy, I miss it’s dangerous mesmerizing beauty. I miss the sand and feel of my feet on it. I miss your sight, a sunkissed vision. I miss the warm humid nights and the bubbly lazy days. My soul aches for it and my body yearns for it. It’s been a long time my friend. It’s been six years since I last saw you. Everything in my life has changed. I’ve had more pain than joy to be honest since we last met. I miss how you refresh my soul. I miss how your energy seems to renew my purpose in life. I miss the happiness you give me. I miss your cleansing waves, washing away all my darkness. I miss you. I miss us. Maybe one day we can see each other again and you’ll have stories to tell me as I do have stories of my own to tell. I look forward to that day as we merge and intertwine together to last a lifetime. Until then, please remember me. Remember our times together. Remember the joy we had together. These are some of the things that keep me afloat. The thought of you. The thought of us. The thought of forever.
Whenever he follows someone new I start getting anxious and wonder why?
Does he talk to them? Why else would he follow them
Does he find them attractive? It won’t ever stop
Why does he follow new people, why does he talk to new people
I envy that. I want to talk to new people, I want to do new things but I don’t have any particular goal in mind.
I wish he told me about the endeavors he’s pursuing. I don’t want to be kept in the dark. I also wish he told me about where he goes and who he goes with. Because I wonder if he’s hiding something or someone.
I guess that’s what bothered me the most today.
I also wish I could stop being so obsessive over him. I get that it’s healthy but only to a certain level. I don’t want to worry about every little thing that he does.
Especially when I love him more than he loves me.
Dear Dad,
I’m sorry that I’m not the briliant son you expected me to be. The burden of you being so successfull makes any of my achievments look miniscular. All of my achievements will never be as bright as yours when you were my age. All of my Ideas no matter how brilliant they are they will seem childlike and you will be on point to tell me what negative aspects they have blocking out all of the positive outcomes they can achieve. In my Early 30s you only remind me every day that i was prepared to be successful and not land lowpaying jobs and be a failure. My 2 businesses have grown exponentially since i started them 3 years ago, but to you they are only merchandise in boxes filling up a room and you can’t wait for me to throw them out and land an office job like all of your friends offspring have. Every time we try to talk about any random subject it all ends in the same speech: grow up, search for a good paying job, leave behind those business you made and get a 9-5 like everyone else does, and if you dont like the way im talking to you, you are more than welcomed to leave the house. I wish for once you heard my ideals, know why im doing things the way i am and not end everything in cons about what im doing and how i will be unsuccessful and everything im working towards will reach a dead end. i really liked how when in my early adulthood friends were over and you treated them how i wanted to be treated, you listened to them and talked to them about subjects we never talked about. for a brief moment i heard a dad that i wish i had that listened to those subjects and had a postive thing to comment. i love you and im sorry i did not accomplish everything you intended for me to accomplish by this age. I hope one day when I become succesful in your eyes, you see and understand why im taking the route i currently am.
Love,
Your Son.
Next month it will be ten years since I walked into that store you worked at. That moment is seared in my mind, you in light wash jeans, and your hair black as your t-shirt. There was no denying the sexual chemistry between us. You came out that night to meet with our mutual friend. We kissed that night outside the bar and the following night I was lying naked in your apartment. You were only the second guy I had slept with. We went on to date for 3 months before you sent me a text ending it all. But not really because we kept sleeping together for at least another month.
There wasn’t anything special about our time together. You weren’t some great love that I can’t get over. We barley had a title to our relationship. We mostly hung at your apartment and slept together. But now you keep popping back up and I can’t seem to hold you in my past. You married a woman I have a mutual friend of and your wife’s sister works in my new office.
Sometimes I wonder if your wife knows everything I do or if she just knows the new you. The you that apparently found god. The you that’s married with a baby. Does she know that during a 5 year relationship you had a 3 year affair? Does she know you used to slept with a heroin addict? Does she know how many women you laid with before you got in her bed? Because I know all these things. I know how you lost your virginity. I know your mom had you dad go to jail for not paying child support. I know you were there when your brother cheated on this wife.
Maybe it’s just because now there are daily reminders that I keep thinking of you and our time together. I remember going to your stepdads retirement party and you fucking me on your kitchen table afterwards. I remember our last night in your apartment before you broke up with me, it was almost Christmas and we exchanged gifts.
Maybe it’s the shame from that time I can’t let go of. I didn’t tell anyone we were together. You were 7 yrs older and going no where in life.
But now we live in the same suburb. I’m married to a different man, a better man, a better lover. Someone that knows every hope, dream and fear my body holds. Someone I’ve built a life with. Someone I met 3 months after you.
I hope in writing this out you leave my mind. I hope if I ever run into you I can pass you without a second thought. Because I truly want to be done. You ended it then and I wasn’t ready. But now I’m choosing to let go of the things I wish I didn’t put up with… you.
I don’t know why you appeared in my dream last night. It was weird and I was worried about you.
Can the universe give me a break or a bouquet of flowers for Christ’s sake?
Or tell me their sorry, and actually mean it?
Why am I always left bleeding, profusely apologizing for
Bringing love notes to their murder mystery party?
When will I get the invite for a brave New, Extraterrestrial world?
