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jcl Oct 7
in late september, when summer has past and fall is here, as the sun sets and the sky blues, bitter sweet yearnings stir, as winter comes. the days cool, the nights lengthen, i long to hold you in my arms, smell your scent mixed amongst the fallen leaves, to feel your lips against mine, to taste the candied sweetness of your kisses.

i relish the coming of the cold, nights buried deep in flannel sheets, weighted down by woolen blankets, warm and snug, bodies naked, intertwined, vulnerable, safe in each other’s arms, oblivious to the world and its problems.
jcl Sep 15
there are nights i fear you coming, knowing your arrival will plunge me into the abyss, to dredge the emotional depths, i am not ready or willing to explore. i am too fragile, overwrought to plumb those parts of me.

it is intense, exhausting, all consuming, analyzing and dissecting my feelings, so i can pick up a pen, transcribe the wellings, spew them on paper, for the world to see. you are a sadist, but i am the *******, that is the reason i love you, leaving me frail, weakening my mettle, as you show me my demons.

crashing out of our dream, i awake alone, the morning after, left in a stupor, hung over, craving more, lamenting what could have been. how lonely do i need to be, to feel free, how much drugs and alcohol does it take to forget, how far do i need to fall to see.

the depression envelopes, inundates all, in a grayness, as the summer sun leaves, abandoning me to melancholy. that is when you come, at my deepest, loneliest, to kiss me as no mortal woman can, whispering, “ you can’t escape me,” in my ear..
About love hate relationship with my muse (creativity), writing, and depression

Read at Wild Detective Bookstore in Bishop Arts Dallas TX 2019.10.09
jcl Sep 12
it is what you most fear, your reoccurring nightmare, the thing you can not grasp, understand, that shorts your brain, that death is the end, there is no after life, no purpose to your existence, no just god sitting on a throne, dispensing justice, punishing the evil, rewarding the good. reality is too hard and harsh, you pray to god, is it true, you are more my creation than i am yours.

how do you reconcile the fact that you know so deep down inside is true. you lie to yourself, suppress the fear, repress the thoughts, ignore what you see with you own eyes. the fear rises, the anxiety worsens, the insomnia lengthens, you fall prey to cognitive dissonance. to understand is to forgive, the anger, the irrational behavior.

the idea that you are mortal is unbearable, that you will die, your flesh rot, and be forgotten. how any man can make sense of it and live, court, marry, have children, when the world has spun out of control, the three horses are here. the pale horse is coming, it will soon be time to die.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four_Horsemen_of_the_Apocalypse
jcl Aug 28
you set in motion, events which cascaded, your emotions imploded, descended into depression, you threw it all away. was it worth it, all the hurt, to yourself, those around you

i trusted you, let down my guard, let you in, only to have you wreak havoc, with my heart, i am trying to forgive, but the pain lingers, i can not forget, the emotional damage

i was there, your rock, tried to help, you pushed me away, self destructed, survivors shocked, after an explosion, trying to understand, what happened

i replay the end, endlessly, trying to fathom the unraveling, deciphering your words for clues, i feel helpless, i can’t understand, make sense of what happen

i pray you are happy, that you’ve found peace, have some tranquility
jcl Aug 25
the secrets that are shared, texted late into the night, two adults, like teenagers, expressing fears of aging bodies, craving intimacy, emotional connection, in a life where there is none. forbidden by convention, drawn by desire, love has no age, no restrictions.

how can we be so close, intimate, but never touching, other than as students, practicing steps at a studio. when we touch, fingers linger, holds extend, bodies innocuously pressed together. there is a tension, never verbalized, an intention, signaled subtly, waiting for a reaction, courage, ebbing flowing, hands daring, waiting for a reprimand, that never comes. when words fail, my touch says everything, your body tells me so.

where is the point of no return when friends become lovers, when we share more than feelings, when touch is intentional, pleasing, satisfying, expressed openly.

it is a dangerous game we play, involving others, oblivious to our foreplay, guilty bystanders to our indiscretion.

living in the moment, aware of the consequences and aftermath, is the danger worth the hurt, why i am doing this, i already know the answer. of all the women to pursue, i choose you, because i can not have you.

how will it end, will we be found out, will you tire of me, what feelings will be left, when the novelty is gone, will the love remain, friendship linger, will we ever talk again, the power of love lies with the one that loves the least.

we are lovers in all but name.
jcl Aug 11
look into the well, through the clear water, to the endless depth, what do you hope to see, what is it that scares you, that you most fear, this fascinating tunnel to the underworld.

look up into the sky, how do you feel, is it awe, insignificance, why do you continue, peering into the infinite, do you feel your place, hope God is aware, you are here, do you pray, He cares.
jcl Aug 11
i miss you most in the morning, when your side of the bed is empty, my hand reaching, expecting, feeling nothing. i roll over, the sun bright, rude in my eyes, i am sad, disappointed, i can’t love and be loved on this lazy morning. i grab your pillow, squeeze it against me, a poor substitute of you, i curl up around it, press my face into its softness, savoring your scent, the smell reminding me, wishing it was you.
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