St. George, Utah, 1953 Look out your window What do you see?
***** Harry And winds that mean no harm
Nice big mushroom cloud Gonna dust your farm
During the early 1950s, St. George, Utah received a majority of the fallout that occurred at the Yucca Flats northwest of Las Vegas during the nuclear testing period of weapons development. The winds routinely carried the radiation to this area, resulting in a significant increase of cancer in the general population.
Thirty three stones stacked and painted neon green, purple, grey. The sun's blaze shimmering heat waves back toward the flat landscape. The magic pillars attract disciples to their path, bring color on a desolate drive.
It was New York. La vie en rose playing in the background as you read a script you wrote the morning before. The way your blue eyes look so sad and yet so peaceful and you smirk for me and me alone. The way your hands are rougher then they should be but touch me softer then they should as well. We were passing cars in the night. Looking for each other as destinations we would never get too.
It was North Carolina. It was green. So much green. It was airports that seemed to hold too many tears and not enough smiles. It was road trips that blossomed into a never ending love and irrational fear. It was summer in July and the way your lips found mine in every moment of every time. You were the light I had been searching for my whole life. And you became the darkness that was always there under my skin. You are my unfinished book and my unfinished heart.
It was California. It was never enough and thoughts that don’t ever truly go away. It was watching you leave. Your fresh start, your growth. My jealousy, my envy. My wishful and spiteful thoughts of wanting to be in your shoes but not wanting you enough.
It was Nevada. Damaged and uncontrollable. The never ending fighting and back and forth insecurities. Your ability to make me swoon and cry in the one sitting was gold. The unquestionable loyalty I had to ruining my own life. The sadness and depression. The love I had but never dared speak of. The way you broke me down and don’t understand my feelings still to this day. ***** and *******. Your true loves.
It was Me. My will to love too much and yet not enough. My hazel eyes and mismatched hair. My gaze of sadness and darkness watching the men come and go from my life. My inability to connect because of damaged heart strings. But It’s also my strength in finding my flaws. The power I have to change. The growth at self confidence and care I am working on. It’s me. It’s them. It’s someday... someday finding someone who won’t leave.