Years

Almost 10 since my ex had last contacted me at a belated hand off of goods at Sakura hibachi grill. We had parted on as about as amicable as I knew how, but I did the whole social media removal thing in Hope’s of not falling into the many obsession traps I knew to exist in long term partings.

I was now married to someone links to my time in Wyoming, with a daughter a few years old.
I get tripped up in describing what came next because I dont know how to define when you have a conversation internally that then manifests .

In my early motherhood I would get real stuck on the worry that somehow I had chosen a partner that would bring about my darkest fears, and had sent out this telepathic line for an outside party with experience just to kind of scope out the situation and evaluate.

Lo, not much time passes and it’s my ex contacting my now husband about attending a metal show together . He does this not just once , but a few times. I reach out to inquire, to get a feel for why hes deciding to make his presence known over this way and also reestablishsocial media contact. He tells me my husband a good guy, sends a few likes to some pictures of my daughter and the cats and let’s me know about the electricians path hes been walking.

I’m more inclined to let things rest as sometimes our conversations are not physical and sometimes even if things don’t work out in company the opportunity to say I’m still looking out for you may also become a space of behavior.

Not that I haven’t considered more dangerous alternatives.

I know you’re here, Wolf

To Who Howls at the Moon,
I could not help but follow the sound of your wail.
You whined of pains that I knew so well.
Your words spoke to me as if they were my own, and so I harmonized as I walked to your cliff. I arrived.
You sang me so many songs, so happy someone would listen the cries you only could tell the sky. You sang me promises of a love larger than the world as your eyes glittered like the stars.
In return I put myself in the path of the hunters without a thought because you would do the same for me, or so I thought.
I have followed your wail for years, hoping to teach you a ballad of joy.
I have seen your wounds and have done my best to stitch them closed.
Yet you never heard my lullabies of loneliness, or held me as I cried.
Recently I have tried to share your pain, but you bit me. You pulled out your stitches and opened your scars just so you can bleed and wail once more because I wasn’t enough. All the same I cleaned them up and bandaged you. I was always there for you.
An old audience member came back to listen to your songs. I knew she was there. I was happy you had someone else to talk to. I wish you talked to me more but if she was helping I understood.
I didn’t know you left the cliff to see her. I didn’t know you sang her the same songs you sang to me.
Then you said we needed time apart. I asked why and received no answer. I thought there was a chance but it hurt.
I was broken, and sad. I was bruised and wounded. You needed someone stronger because I wasn’t enough. The stars of love you had in your eyes for me was over casted by clouds of her.
Your love is like the moon, it has phases until its gone completely.
I tried to ask for another chance but I heard you singing for her. You were as we were still together.
You broke every promise you ever made to me, like breaking my bones. It wasn’t until you ripped out my heart I even noticed it’s all I had left. I was eaten alive by the shame you made me feel, and tossed on the large pile of all the old audience members, rotting, broken, and worthless.

What did I expect by falling in love with a selfish Wolf?

– Your Burden

Hey Love (Pt. II)

Hey love, again:
Just wanted to connect again, as this is the only way how. I miss you and I wish I could talk to you and check-in.

To be quite honest, I am still with this dude and I cannot take it anymore. I do not want to be with him, but I don’t know how to get out of it. I tried to leave him a few weeks ago. However, he didn’t listen and wants to work things out. I am getting closer to really moving on and away from him.

I think of you often and wish you well. Heard you’re working again and I am super proud of you. God bless you and until we meet again.

Best,
Love (Your Baby Always)

P.S. Mom let me look at your facebook today and you look good. Hoping you are reunited with your children soon and move on from that whale.

Wishful thinking

Where do heavy hearts go?

They slip in between the cracks

And underneath covers

And wrists and lips of half assed lovers

And they bath and seethe

In loneliness and despair

Unless a rose is given.

Then their cheeks are beet red

And their eyes blurry from waterfalls

Slinking out of their eyes

And they forget what is was like

To slip so quickly into quicksand

And bury their hearts in an untouched treasure trove.

Where do heavy hearts go?

Some stay rotten like the corpse of a dead fish

Others become golden, forgetting thorns and settle for

Blooming free.

I like to think you are the latter.

I always like to think you bloom relentlessly.

Missing

A,

There’s a cloud over my heart.
A fog in my head.
Greyscale lenses cover my eyes, and I can’t tell where I’m headed.
My life is missing from my present. My purpose missing from my future.
Yet my past is the only thing overflowing, directing the destiny of both.
You were my compass; my color. The wind that drove away the fog.
You held my hand to your heart and taught me how to live.
I don’t know why I do the things I do, or how much longer I can continue to do them.
But without sails, there isn’t much hope once the hurricane hits and I’m hundreds of miles from land.
I am missing you, and it is costing me everything.

-E

The eggplant NSFW

So it really is *THAT* big.

As long as you and I have known one another and teased one another for years. It finally happened.

But I am bigger too.

My chest is so big I’ve not really looked down at them at that angle in some time. I started laughing, bc Jesus; I could smother you with them.

No, you can’t push, I can honestly say, and I’m not kidding, that it hurt me when you did. Thank you for letting me on top. I can straddle a strut over you forever. You prefer that any way that I don’t stop and I don’t get bored.

I’ll have to get over what my chest looks like.

Oh. You don’t have to kiss me on the mouth the way you kiss me between my legs; less is more.
That is if the new-normal-of-COVID allows us to do this again.