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You're not aware of this, darling,
but from the open door
I watched your drenching insides.
Water dripping on your arms, on your legs, on your feet
from your hair wrapped in bubbles
of leaking advertisements promising
softness and dandruff free scalp.

The strands were around your fingers,
sterile and making love.

And all those times, darling
while laying in bed
on crumpled sheet, I wonder
if you ever saw the blood of the rabbits in the lab
as the water dripped down the gentle foams of the shampoo
down to your temples -
down to your eyes.
#To all the animals slaughtered to satiate the misguided market of comfort and civilization.
Debauchery.
That is the void in her life.
Debauchery.
Deep, endless debauchery.

The elevator closed and, in her mind, she saw them grabbed each other. She saw her back pressed against the railing; his palm pressed against the wall. She saw his arm around her waist; hers around his nape, holding a notebook.

Classes have ended and, in her mind, she saw them – her lover and his past lover – disappeared.

She saw things that happened many years ago. On a sofa in the living room, in the car, on a piece of cloth, in the open air, under the stars, against the tree and wall, every time they were together. She saw his hips against hers, their bodies coiled and inseparable and buried in anticipation and ultimate fire.

Unable to bear the torment, she grabbed her laptop
and wrote the things she saw
many, many years ago. (To be continued)
More at baelfiremoon.wordpress.com
The others must have seen me, but I remained unnoticed to their vision. I stood there. I stood still as they passed by, that certain couple in their 20s whose form of entertainment revolved around alcohol and apples and sneaking behind the tree or inside the car. Nothing astounding.

Their steps carry the particular type of urgency available only to the ordinary and the fools. He clasped his fingers around hers and thought about the future, being married and all that, but she was bored with him. She looked almost trapped.

I watched him open the door to the passenger’s seat. I watched her enter the car. I watched him follow in barefoot, and I watched them drown themselves in hours and shadows and whispers and when they finally went out, she still looked bored even with his promises and hundred years. (To be continued)
Other stories at http://baelfiremoon.wordpress.com/
Today,
I walked back and forth
and tried to shrug off those memories
words
and promises dangling on my hair
like confetti strewed on our favourite park bench.
Written on a scratch of paper I found tucked in one of my possessions. It had my name signed, dated 2012. A throwback, I s'ppose.
Nice eyes, though. Lauren's.
But not striking enough.

I like bluish-gray.
I see the ocean during the storm.

Or greenish brown.
I see forest and moss,
or sea weeds.

But with hers,
it's dishonesty and flourishing deception.
You can love
anyone on the planet
And anyone on the planet
can love you.

But there are varying degrees of love.

Some love are meadows.
Some are graveyards.
Most, however,
are graveyards dressed as meadows.

But in either three,
all flowers are bound to perish.
The act of betrayal hurts because it is usually committed by someone you have trusted and loved the most. And you have been betrayed, your heart gorged. I just want you to know that you have the right to be angry and hold your grudge against that person and there is nothing wrong with that. Even negative emotions make you human.

However, you have to remember that not all people, in general, are like her. Not all will treat you the way she did, or they did; not everyone will treat you badly, the way you don't deserve.

Most people are cruel, yes, but some are kind and genuine. They maybe few, but they exist. You can expect that they will regard you correctly, because they know, as a human being, you deserve that. They will show you your importance, because you are important. In case you have forgotten, they will remind you. In case you have lost it, they will help you find it again.

In times of need, expect that they will choose you over anything else. Meetings. Classes. Birthday celebrations. Whatever. You are worth more than those. They know that you deserve to be the choice and not just an option.

Do not be afraid to trust again. Fully and genuinely. Opening oneself and giving in once more isn't easy, especially in your case, but you have to try. You have to try overcoming those obstacles and letting not the past defeat you. Not everyone you'll meet will stab you at the back, the way she did.

There are people who can and will show you your importance. They may be few, but they exist. I hope you find them. And I hope you find your fulfillment as a human being and the core of your existence. I hope you can say in the end, not matter how ugly and cruel the world is, that life's worth it.

I hope all these for you.
Sincerely.
To the scent of rain on dry Earth.
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