The future is looming over me watching every step i take waiting for my life to fade. I never do fade. I live in the present living for my parents living for my friends and never for myself. Healing from the past still wearing a gas mask. Stuck in images of my own wars how many lives I’ve changed for better for worse. He is the worst, the ghost of the man in the mirror. His pale skin hushed in the moonlight eyes red as the fire in his stomach. I'm left hoping for a future where this ghost could be alive.
****** launched with so much power. It ripples across the air into my head dissolving into fear. I look up and remember they aren’t talking to me. They wouldn’t say that to me. Not because they have learned acceptance. They just accept the fact that this ****** hits harder than they want to know. Fear is what keeps their ignorance in check and keeps me safe.
I wonder, does she plan the presence she presents in a room? Does she gloat in the glow of goddesses, frolicking in the fields of her fanfare. Or does she muddle in her myriad of mistakes, borrowing the broken hearts of her long lost lovers, trying to understand the untold truths that come from an unlocked mind. I wonder, does she hate the hollow human she’s become trying not to succumb to her mortal mind. I wonder.
I get lost in my own words don’t know where I end and the character begins. Writing to keep the ink from spilling the blood in my veins flowing. Wishing that time would start slowing. There is so much to do so much time to sleep so much time to fill knowing that it is time to replace the silence and speak the truth.
Early mornings were always booked for me and my dad had the world at our hands when the sun was still young and rich of color. He taught me how to make eggs rich of flavor taught how the early bird gets the worm taught me that there was a sincere loudness in the silence of the morning. The world mourning another night passed another day ready to break open like an egg and sizzle with the spice of life.
Loneliness creeps in at night whispering sweet nothings asking me why I cry asking me why I’m cold asking where my heart went. Welcoming him back because he’s all I’ve had my only consistency I hold open the covers inviting him in. Joining me in bed he shapes himself into my curves taking my hand taking my love taking me somewhere else rather than the void of my head. His kiss softer than the nights air. The moon light watching the room fill back into silence.