Dawn.

Quick note: the following is an unedited prose piece I started on a little while ago. I would like to work with it a bit more, but I feel I just need it to be looked at by another pair of eyes. Let me know what you think. (Likes, dislikes, changes, elaborations, etc.)

I woke up and stretched. My fists reached toward the ceiling and I let out a yawn that made lions a little worried. This morning felt different from the previous ones. I didn't linger under the covers imagining you were holding me in your arms. I pushed my feet to the floor and didn't check the pillow for where your head might have been. I wiped the sleep from my eyelids and not once did my blink lengthen to welcome a thought of your presence.
Something felt loose, but not out of place. In fact, something felt like it had finally been put back, returned to its rightful owner. I waltzed into bathroom, lighter than when I had gone to sleep somehow. "What was it?" I blandly thought to myself. Whatever it was that wasn't there, it had taken the pit from my stomach with it.
I thought about nothing and my body understood that I needed to get to work at a certain time. In my mind, I sat back and relaxed in an open field of tall grass. I squinted at the sun until noon. I got up and chased the squirrels and the butterflies and the pollen in the air. In my imaginary world, I was just me and having the fun that I wanted to have.
I get home and sit down. I wonder what's missing as though my life were a children's puzzle. I ask myself, "What used to be here that isn't anymore?" But really, the answer always comes in the form of another question: "What was there before that was replaced by what is now missing?"
I come to see that I live in a series of replacements. And that when I lost one central part of my life, another came to take it's place. So when I lost my sanity, I found you. And when you left, I found a void filled with endless sadness and pain and suffering. And suddenly, today, that void has finally been replaced with life again; a forest of life grown over the smoldering ruins of a dark fantasy world. I'll admit, I still remember why that hole was made, but I think it even more amazing and awesome that the patch has grown so full in one night.
I anticipate what else I get to weave into this great pattern of waking fresh and new at the end.

The Diner Waitress

No one could ever say she wasn’t faithful. She was beautiful and powerful. We were a team. Speeding down highways, running from the cops, keeping my friends safe... And now, atop of this hill, she finally gave out. It was here that Betty’s engine coughed to an oily, steaming halt.





It is important to note, and mostly for sheer amusement, that Betty was my first beloved car. And while we never ran from the cops together, she did die in a rather dramatic fashion. We had also decided that if she were ever to be personified, she'd be that scummy diner's waitress---the one with reallllyyyy thick makeup on and a raspy voice from all that smoking over the years. The waitress that called everyone "hon" or "sweetie" and half the time didn't reat you like she meant it that way. She wears pink tennis shoes and drinks her coffee black. Probably owns a rifle. Or is terrified of them. Either could kick your ass or is the first to die. That was Betty.

Sixty words

It was beautiful: too early for runners or fishermen, just late enough for a sunrise.
We parked the car next to the pier.
I opened the trunk and began to lift.
I thought to myself, “It’s been too long since I worked out.”

One, two, THREE!

The body floated hesitantly then slipped under leaving only a trail of bubbles behind.

"Under an '88 Cavalier I go..."

It feels like it's been days since yesterday.
So much has happened without a lot happening.
So little crazy with so much thought.

I'm de-cluttering things.
It feels so good to look forward.

Stereo in the Kitchen

it is when you begin to apologize that you know you may be in trouble...

"Ennui unbridled, let's talk to kill the time.
How many styles did you cycle through before you were mine?
And it's been a while since we went wild and that's all fine,
But we're sleepwalking through this trial,
And it's really a crime...it's really criminal"

Everything was awash in orange
and our mouths were filled with grins.
The table would morph into a new mess each night
and the furniture would tumble down the stairs.
We could walk into each other's houses,
drink a glass of water and keep walking.
The sky protected us when we played basketball in the dark
and candy on our tongues could melt anything away.

Long drives and drunken lost living rooms,
dark hallways and loud basements filled with sleeping people,
a television kissing you goodnight
and a kitchen sink to wake you in the morning.

To name the things that changed you
is to remember who you are
and if it's the difference between
the hole in my diary or the clippings of my soul,
I'll carve something righteous out
just to tell these stories again.

Some love stories were never meant to be sold to Hollywood.
Or to last.



Note: This is a summary of the events of last fall and the feelings that went with it. I lost a job and a friend last December, neither of which would want me back. The love story is not of romance in this situation but an idealized adoration for a group that was family. I had previously referenced death before things began to fall apart not thinking I could lose this.
In short---last October was a lot of fun and I'll really miss it.


Originally written on 10/20/09

Still Life

An edit of this. Feedback is thoroughly encouraged. Criticism extremely welcome.

Eons have passed since we walked through that green maze to bronze fields.
Yet I have visited our park so many times in my thoughts,
with the heaviness of death hiding so close to my heart,
it would seem as though it was only yesterday since we were walking side by side.

With open eyes and bare feet,
the music of the air spilled into our ears
and we swayed like stalks of wheat.

Under the blue autumn sky,
I can still hear all of the words you ever spoke
echoing through the blades of grass.

We were not silent then;
we were not patient
and there was no need to be, either.
Our souls touched and grew inside one another.

I can only dig down so far
to find where there is a difference between us.
It would not matter if you lived in any other place,
if I could not see you with my eyes.
We were born to meet each other and live to learn.
(Perhaps if we had never met I may have died?
What about you?)

If my legs could carry me,
I would run.
If you could open your mouth,
you would conduct symphonies.

It was so simple for us.
We were creating worlds by discovering what already existed.
We were flourishing in the void.
We were making peace by not needing one another.

My only fears for you are that fear would get in the way of any life worth living.
That something could paralyze you beyond ever
understanding or experiencing the most necessary affairs.

Waves passed and oceans flew,
time churned and next thing I knew
you were walking away from me.

The crisp air hit my lungs and I decided this wouldn't be when I chased after anyone.
I was tired of walking so far North
that I forgot where the beach lay.
When I was at your place
I never knew which way was home.
I got so comfortable in your bed
I began to dislike my own skin.

Four years ago I might not have known any better,
but four years from now I might say the same thing.

I take a deep breath and plunge in.

---maybe I'll find you after all.

affirmation/prayer/love

Know that you are beautiful and wonderful;
nothing could ever hurt you or harm you.
You will win out in the end,
with that triumph in your chest
and a gleam in your eye.
There isn't a single soul that could stand in your way
or anyone that can waste your time of day:
you choose what you see
you gain what you need to learn.

Know these truths and be free
smile and live happily.