Drenches half music blues
Paints my eyes his drips of two's
Like a software of compliance
Superior-what's inside
Interior-Inferior-Exterior
  Calmness-Family-Bless

Providence--resilience  
Anxiety you can tell
  at a glance
In a state of anxiety  
Nature calls cleansing
rinse
A world of society

Sacredly*
               Tiredly
                           World
          Inconsistent
What is at state?
No greener pasture
Present the future

Craziness high anxiety fire
More jobs to hire
Paints- birthstone- sapphire
Picture memories
  to capture  
Anxiety like sanity
Paints wellness next to
       Godliness

Eyes weaken but your heart
      Glistens

It's not how long you live
It's how you live long

So dear the art
I never had to finish

So spellbinding the love
That never got the chance to turn grim.

Frozen hour
Hazy season.

I sent it to him one day, as I always did. I always had to remind him once a day that I was thinking of him. We lived in houses with no space for me. I was an intruder in our love.

In my life, I love you more.

It was true. I had forgotten how to laugh by this point. I had forgotten that I used to see my friends much more than this. I forgot that I existed in a world of my own. I forgot that now was a time and place, as well. I only knew that one day, we would be married, we would have children, he would work and I would stay at home until he wanted me to go back to work. We would buy houses and cars, because he wanted to. We would attend the events he wanted to. I would be quiet when he wanted me to, have *** when he wanted to. He would have *** when he wanted to. I would forgive him when he needed me to, I would excuse his affair because he was a byproduct of something much greater than us. There was only enough space for one of us to be wrong. I would forget that my mother raised me on her own. I would forget that having a family wasn't always better than no family at all, when he needed me to. I would stay in a loveless marriage because I needed to remember that there was no one better than him. I wouldn’t ask questions about where he had been, because he needed to be here and there. I would raise our kids the way I didn’t want to. I would not get tattoos I’d always wanted to get.

I already know this song.

He already knew this song, maybe one day before me he had heard it and thought of someone else. Maybe after me he had heard it and thought of someone else.

Listen, it made me think of you.

I had to love you more. I loved you so porous, boneless, skinless, brainless. You already knew this song. You always knew so much, I know you wanted to think that. You, too, knew that one day, I would stop loathing myself for long enough to leave you.

Oh.

I just wanted you to let me sing the song, too.

Hey, would you like to be friends, or
At least play pretend and
Have discussions that pass lifeless
Like a leaf being pushed by the winds.

You could even keep my shirt at your crib,
So years later you can forget
Whose even it is. Like remembering
Which kid drew this scribble
Hung up on the fridge.

Man, all these frayed connections are
Dimming the lights in this decrepit
Building. One huff and puff
Could turn this structure to rubble dust.

I have no mind to wink or blink
An eye, at one word half *** replies, unless
It reads goodbye. Tired of tap dancing
On the precipice of caring, or
Not caring less.

~o~o~o~
Skin is the one that gets wrinkled,
it deals with the heat and the cold
of one's existence...not the mind,
the heart, or feelings...character
and determination mellow with the
passing years...brain is hidden,
but has always been gray...hair
gets visibly gray with age.
~o~o~o~
Seasons, and life's lessons
help broaden and wizen
narrow minds...a much awaited
solitude, that silent dialogue with
the soul, gives light and sense to
questions...it pays to be in touch.
~o~o~o~
Late summers have come...a face
that once youthfully beamed
with smiles...still smiles,
the grayed crown sparkles under
the sun...making it known that,
lightning still flashes in the mind,
thunder still roars through the veins.
~o~o~o~
Underneath wrinkled skin and gray,
thinning hair, there still breathes
within, a little girl or a boy...a once
young lady, or young man, now
aging men and women...more
introspective and ruminative...but,
it's still you, him, her, me...it's still US!
~o~o~o~
Not much changes, just numbers, gray
hair...lined skin, and plenty of wisdom.
~o~o~o~


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
  February 6, 2022

Good Times
they seldom last
but take care of themselves

Bad times
they often last
unless you take care of them yourself