As the Mohawks straddle the goal line
We hold our breaths.
We need a win under our belts,
And this is the most important game of all.
I feel the tension in my stomach,
Now in my hand,
As you take it into yours.
Normally I would be thinking of you
But we are so focused on this touchdown
"Hike!" Shouts number 7, and there it goes.
Caught by 22.
But not quite.
We go wild.
Mohawk fans cheering
You grab me in a huge embrace and
I can't breathe
But its not because you're holding me too tightly.
Thought of consequence
Thought of the future
Thought of pain
Thought of who is watching,
You kiss me right there and then
And even though your eyes are closed
I still see the blue in my mind from moments before,
Letting me know that it is okay to dive in.
As the cheering roar dies out
I see that blue again
Confused and happy
Or is that me?
On this homecoming night
And I'm not talking about the team.
I am building
Building a home
Return here after
After you've roamed
And back into
Into my arms.
I am building
Building a life
A getaway from
From your strife
To make what's
What's wrong right
I am building
Building a family
A place for you
You and me
Where we may live
Life life freely.
While all of my friends will tell me no,
I say yes because I can't watch you go.
While all of my friends won't like you at all,
You're quite the catch, and it's worth the fall.
And though I've just met you, I can't help it, you see,
I'm thinking about you, hoping you're thinking about me.
i slipped the silk fabric over the curve of my hip and the scarred flesh of my thigh in a dressing room with three of my friends behind me, sucking in the fat of my stomach. they say black is supposed to be slimming but it only made me bloated; maybe the mirror was a liar (i know it didn't lie). an elephant with too-thick eyeliner and a too-thick body stared back at me and i bit through the skin of my lip till it bled and i wanted to live on some other planet where elephants were appreciated.
"that's the best one you've tried on yet," someone said, but i couldn't hear them over the red-eyed demon within me which whispered of shoving two fingers down the trachea, messy but quick, everything gone in an instant. if this was my best one, i was doomed because my eyes were glazed over with the misunderstanding that beauty would never apply to me.
"i'm just gonna go- go to the restroom-" and the red eyed thing inside me cracks its whip, takes over the nerves in my brain, makes my legs sprint to the toilets and it's over, it's done, the food gone among stomach acid, falling hair, and teeth erosion.
i can only imagine what the restaurant worker who was forced to clean rainbow-coloured vomit in the toilet thought.
On the way back all these thoughts poured,
Leaving me more opaque than when I left.
All the fears resurfaced with their horns and pitchforks...
No, I didn't tread through this tedious hell just to fail.
And then a voice said:
"Facing your demons, and the ones you thought you left behind, never was easy. You get scared and overwhelmed, but that's why you pray. "
...and that's why suddenly, we could all move again.
You are the mud under my shoes
that with each step
urge me on
and turn my racing spikes
into Hermes' shoes.
You are the glow of my phone
when I can't sleep at night
so I look for solace
with those I care about most.
You are the music I hear
and the music I play,
both so different
but neither more beautiful.
You are the click of heels on hardwood
and the smell of jasmine
on a night we cannot forget
because I finally asked.