is it the ever flowing images that keep me "going", that keep me "from moving"?

quite confusing, in both ways.

in some ways they allow the blood in my veins to rush to my cheeks when I chose, even sometimes by surprise, but in others, I can barely fathom a moment without them, the memories.

if I were to be living without the images of you, I suppose I would begin to visit you in dream; like someone I have never met but would like to.

you are a dream in all honestly...at least now you are.

there is a nauseating rush now, like a cracked mosaic, like a weak cherry tree in the late fall, like an yelled secret in outer space; and all I suppose is real, are the words I say in my sleep, the longing I remember when I wake, the pain I feel later in the day when I try and remember every arrangement of letters than passed my lips, your fruit punch stained ones.

a third is good, a third is bad, and the other third is neutral...

stuck in the middle, consuming both the good and the bad, blending in camouflage.

I cannot tell which is which.

-Julia Aubrey Rhodes-

can I replace the new with old and call it new, or is that false representation?

will you sue me if I throw in a few past words and sell them to you as newer and better, more reliable, even though they might not be?

what about if I offer to steal a few glances to keep your thoughts scrambling for more?

can I seal a few letters with my Amsterdam red lipstick, to prove that there isn't a word I wrote to you that didn't come straight from my mouth, even though a few, ok all of them probably didn't?

after all, it is real, right?

-Julia Aubrey Rhodes-

If I can say one thing to you, a final word, all I would be able to mutter is the word "disappointment".

My body shakes so much because my soul is constantly on the verge of collapsing, and more than one word would allow the goo to flow right out, to drown you.

And in some ways, some where along the road when I so happen to run into you, I know it will be different.

And yes, because we have changed, and because we always have been different, even the humidity couldn't evaporate the facts.

But just wait, maybe there's a chance, a cork in the old bottle of mascot might just save the rich flavor we once had, maybe even make it stronger after a few years.

For now, I will leave a candle in my window every night, because even without my sun, I have a flame that is bound to catch fire somewhere else in the dark.

-Julia Aubrey Rhodes-

Maybe, we were too caramelized.

Yes, that's right, too caramelized, too sweet, too cozy and warm, slowly oozing against the fire we were leaning on, feeding off of each others sugar, each others, well, sweet tooth.

There is a reason you mom tells you not to eat too much candy on Halloween or not to eat that last cookie in the jar, and it is because she knows how much you will want more. She knows how hard it is to stop once you have already gotten that sweet craving on your lips.

But, still you eat, and you indulge in these phantasmagoric forms of sugar... and even though she warned you, you are left sitting with you teeth rotten out with an ache like no other.

I wrote previously about the electronic implications on the written word
But the smoothness of this pen upon paper has made me neutral on the subject
It's insanely intoxicating when your words flow onto the paper just as they do from your mind
Uninterrupted
But, death has a way of bringing you back to reality
A birthday, In which the birth boy has passed
Twenty four red balloons, caressed gently by the wind as they are carried beautifully skyward.
Red of passion
Red of love
Because twenty four is infinite
Also is the love and the friends you left behind
But we love you,
I love you
And we will forever follow you
Upon these rising currents
Like those twenty four red balloons.

Does the sun rise and scorn
All the dreams I think I saw?
Or does it care?

Does it want to help me bear
The loss of something I never had,
But through rose-coloured spectacles
I clearly saw?

Does it shine, or smirk
When it sees me pleading with the night
Not to go away, and begging all my dreams
To come with me into the day?


Are you light, or dark Sun?
Are you my tormentor,
Or my friend?
(Gerry Aldridge 2016)

We ran across streams of moonlight
Racing each other in a childlike excitement
Mine stemming from the newness of this
Yours from the injected high you gave yourself

Through the woods, we raced
The moon playing hide and seek with our eyes
With every step, we learned more
Lacing words together you gifted them to me

We stopped just short of the deeper end
Stepping into a shimmering pool of moonlit rays
Clearing our minds of doubts and inhibitions
You stepped forward and offered me your hand

Your fingers hung in front of me
A hopeful promise of something…. More?
But I took a sudden step backward
The claws of my dark past holding me firm

You pulled me in though with determination
Letting your lips rest against mine in hope for a change
But with controlled fingers, I pushed you back
A smile gracing yourself as you let me go

“I will wait” you promised
Unknowingly binding your soul with mine
We walked back calmly now, more aware of everything
Arms linked and words shared while I struggled to still hold back

Next morning I woke up in a hasty excitement
Last nights hesitancies left behind in my dreams
Walking up to breakfast trembling in a crazed nervousness
Yet once again, fear seized me and I stayed away

This dance continued, endlessly
One reaching out to the other desperately
Searching for a reminder of that moonlight run
Sighing in regret at our human insecurities

Tired of the worlds of confusion we brought alive
We stepped away, never giving hope to a dream
One we both once dreamt in unison
Tracing it across eachothers' arms with starry promises

It was too late we reasoned
The world after all, didn’t give second chances to such wishes
Shooting stars avoided us as a sign of our failure
So we scrubbed away the burning fires we had once traced

Now, we lay in the arms of others
Looking up at plain ceilings in search of our lost stars
Wondering the dreaded ‘What Ifs?’
Sleeplessly racing back to our dreamy havens of you and me

So close but barely meeting as we stumbled through life
Holding close harsh rocks that couldn’t compare to our burning stars
Forging forward in a crazed determination to forget
Only at moonlight looking up to secretly whisper unheard confessions

A gentle whistle of letters let flow
Ignored by the trillions of slumbering bodies
Only eavesdropped upon by the creak of sneering branches
But lapped up by the moon in an endless waiting of..