take me

to dance

barefoot,
on the sand

dionysian,
the fire

take
me

***** you know I'm not straight
but your friends didn't know so you still let them hate.
Obviously they're allowed their views I give it to them
but is not alright for my actions to be condemned.
They know it isn't contagious but talk as if I'm sick.
Well I'm not so tell them, they're being a ******* *****.
Friends are not friends when they treat their friends, friends like ****.
So please tell them to stop and think, maybe some girls just don't like *****.

Remind me* what warm, sandy days in early July are like when the creases in my mattress make their mark on my skin so deep I forget how to stand up straight on my own. Remind me what 72 degrees at 50 miles per hour in my hair feels like when the shades will not open themselves and the piles of ***** dishes and wrinkled clothing have created their own escape route from my bedroom. Remind me what holding hands with someone who would rather hold your soul feels like when I crave human touch but shut out everyone that comes within a mile of my heart because I'm just so scared to break again. Remind me what hot chamomile tea on a dewey August morning tastes and smells like when I am buried in pillows and have my eyes glued to the computer screen because they're too tired to search for anything beautiful; they couldn't stand to see something beautiful anyway, because they'd deliver the message to their owner that what they see is that which she is not. Remind me what laughter, on a trampoline, at 2 in the morning, that makes my stomach hurt feels like when the nostalgia sinks deep into my skin and draws blood, and I feel as though things won't ever be as golden as they once were. So please, remind me that better days lie ahead. Remind me how it feels to work for something, to put your heart and soul into a work of art when I feel like my insides have collapsed because trial and error is my only experience with love and error seems to have ******* all hope. Remind me that it isn't me who is broken, that it is the world who needs my love and remind me that if I would stop giving up, that I could feel all of these things again. Remind me to get up and try, and try, and try again. Even when the white walls hurt my eyes and the blanket clings to my skin, remind me what it feels like to live. And don't let me lose that feeling again.

In school, I was always getting spoken to about the length of my sentences; I used semicolons more than anyone else my teacher had ever met and he always asked me why I didn't just end the sentence and begin again; I always told him that I was scared to end one if I wasn't sure it was finished yet; what if it wanted another chance? What if it was ready to start again? I wrote an essay in which the entire introduction was one long sentence, it went on for two pages and I had to rewrite it three times because it was not concise enough. I grew worried that I'd end up the same way the rest of my life; what if I was always too scared to end things because I wasn't sure if I would be able to start from scratch? What if I held on to one thing for too long and lost the chance of another one hatching and what if I never learned how to start fresh? I was always used to starting over, but it's different when you're older. You don't start over with the same white heart, you start over, carrying the bruises you got from fighting for years and you start over knowing that any move could be the one that ends your sentence and you start over knowing you're creating run-on after run on but you don't care as long as your words have somewhere safe to go; you don't care as long as they know they're welcome there, because god knows they weren't anywhere else.

i do not love you
words are not in abundance
i am not drawn to you
like birds migrating to
warmer heavens
i felt something brief,
my breath was caught
by love's noose,
but stranger things happen,
i do not love you,
because to love you
would be to become you,
to capsize like a boat,
submerging into red seas,
i do not love in small measures,
to do so would be worse
than blasphemy,
i feel for you,
but i do not love you,
i do not search for your
face in crowds,
i do not love in honesty,
only lies pounding
hoofs on loves ground.
i cannot love you,
because the taste of it is
strange in my mouth,
an unwanted flavour,
like sand and dust,
in the midst of something
that should be sweet.
i do not love you,
or i cannot love at all.

He broke his silence for her
He broke the rules he never should
Said what he felt like he did
He engaged with a fence sitter
Not knowing he was throwing
his heart under her feet

His eyes were blazing
His soul searing
His risk was great
His reputation at stake

Did he love her?
Should he say that he did?
Would she respond
Would she understand?

Oh she did understand!
Oh she did want it just they same!
Only her freedom was not hers to claim!

She loved him the only way she could
His happiness his dreams where precious to her
She was the distraction he could not afford
No one was going to be happy with this arrangement she understood

Sometimes it is so easy to loose yourself
in the moment and forget about the rest
But then the moment comes back to haunt
It should never have been!
Those words spoken those feelings rent
The soul laid bare and naked, exposed

Then she ran away, as fast as she could
For she saw in him her reality
A mirror of herself
He loved her as she loved him
What next, what next?

Will he forgive her
Why should he?
Why should he?
She broke his rules.

A Touch Of Love
I sat there oblivious feeling empty and wondering who am I?
What am I doing, where am I going?
I searched for answers to my questions, but my mind was blank.
Leaving me desperate, sad, and without direction.
As the tears flow my eyes, the love crushing down,
And I felt no longer despair nor earthbound.

A light breeze blew upon my head, as I gazed at the flower bed.
A bold colorful ray of sunlight pushed against my soul
And its’ warm flow, like a stream of water ran from my head straight to my toe.
I knew that the love came crushing down.
For I no longer felt earth bound.

Joy processed me as never before, my spirit felt like it had soared.
Love had taken me to another plain; high above all earthly pleasures
To a place beyond all human measures, lifting my spirit, comforting my soul,
Caressing my body as it consoles.

Every limb of my body, every fiber of my soul went limp; as
I embraced the love that came from within.
Oh the sweet love that came crushing down,
Yes, God’s perfect love that left me spell bound.
_____________
C. L. Hewitt                           January 30, 2013