kisses you make them soft and sweet
like flowers falling at her feet
lips quiver with the building heat
fill her up and pour her out
sun that shines the morning after
brimming over with recent laughter
she'd tell you she loved you if you asked her
fill her up and pour her out
it's not that all the feelings had
infected the heart and driven it mad
it's not that love had made her sad
love her past the breaking point
once in a while now and again
she slips and smiling calls you friend
deeper with each night you spend
love her past the breaking point
heat her quick and raw her nearer still
melting limbs upon your will
broken heart whose wounds are filled
love her fast and don't let go
swirling passion toughts are gone
like missing lyrics from a song
things she hasn't felt for so long
love her fast and don't let go
revisting your smell anew
fresh likes leaves of summer dew
making blood pulse strong and true
love her fast and don't let go
fill me up and pour me out, love me past the breaking point
love me fast and don't let go
ask me once and then you'll know...
4/10/2007
4/09/2007
but it's the silence
there are the times when it speaks so true
speaks of what it is that the "real" honestly desires
not the false bravado of a well spoken player
no the voice the love fearing childish nay sayer
not that one all consuming kiss, that managed to sway her
back to where she came from
but for the silence
i would not have a moment to speak out loud
and the voice brings forth an honesty undeniable
but the sound creates an urge to pull within
all the full encompassing doubts laiden with sin
with gold sweetened kisses my bed has had you in
Lord i forgot where i came from
oh it's the silence
that allows she to be me
creates comfort despite tesion
who lets her own heart just to see
the wealth of beauty despite the poverty of violence
where society has us all trapped
tragedy spills out rivers of yearning to the concrete
where envrionmental catastophy is always God's angry thunder clap
whispers through the wind forever screaming your name in reverence
the speaker would not have one moment of sanity gained
oh but for the silence
there are the times when it speaks so true
speaks of what it is that the "real" honestly desires
not the false bravado of a well spoken player
no the voice the love fearing childish nay sayer
not that one all consuming kiss, that managed to sway her
back to where she came from
but for the silence
i would not have a moment to speak out loud
and the voice brings forth an honesty undeniable
but the sound creates an urge to pull within
all the full encompassing doubts laiden with sin
with gold sweetened kisses my bed has had you in
Lord i forgot where i came from
oh it's the silence
that allows she to be me
creates comfort despite tesion
who lets her own heart just to see
the wealth of beauty despite the poverty of violence
where society has us all trapped
tragedy spills out rivers of yearning to the concrete
where envrionmental catastophy is always God's angry thunder clap
whispers through the wind forever screaming your name in reverence
the speaker would not have one moment of sanity gained
oh but for the silence
4/02/2007
long time comin'
that's right. 7 years too long baby.
time to "run into the arms of fate", as my friend used to say in her melodramatic pre teen phase. seems everything was a big deal back then, and i always thought she was being so over the top, but secretly i agreed with her.
secretly i still do, but there's no one left to talk about it. not even her.
if she was here i'd get high and catch up, tell her that she was right.
now, i try to talk to other people like that and they don't get it, so i don't bother.
try to talk some deep shit to the little children out here they look at you like you got two heads.
i should specify: it's the male of the species i refer to as child.
that's for the ones out her in the snow belt at least, i wouldn't say the same at all for the juice in tarana; juice flows freely out there. like water for chocolate.
here is more like snow for vanilla, it doesn't carry with the same appeal.
am i that prejudice against men of my "own colour"
i should not aline myself against them with such a brutal attitude, but what have any of them really done for me. there are but a few who i'd love to see suffer at my own hands.
wow that's evil, though not in comparison to the things i think about yet neglect to utter...
so is that why i am here, singular, on this computer.
why am i not making money on the way home from making money.
work was not mentally possible this aft, but what was.
i wasn't waitin' to exhale, nor was i holdin it in
though everyone's failed, i'm not throwin the towel in
got me wrapped in the shadows, wonderin just where you've been
got me wrapped in your beauty, and quickly giving in
broken ramblings due to stress overload, they should be happy i haven't gone postal yet over all this shit. well, me going postal would be nothing like anyone has ever seen-so average people wouldn't notice.
me going postal would end up in red, in places people wouldn't look, for people who don't want to be found.
no one should ever want to witness what me going postal looks like.
so many changes i want to make happen, and so many conflicting directions those chanegs pull me in.
if i had a car i'd be goin on a drive every night to the middle of nowhere to scream.
yea, i know, doesn't sound like words coming from someone who's too mentally healthy.
so what. who the fuck am i trying to impress.
it's like this: i'm supposed to be this do everything, clean everything, be friends with everyone, go to work and church and be a good woman and mother. yea. not feelin it.
i'm so overwhelmed with everything, and as hard as i try to kick it straight it's never enough and i feel trapped sometimes, but there are ways out.
long gone are the days that i thought i would meet some knight in shining armour, and yes i am being melodramatic, but these tiems in my life are cause for dramatics.
and why would i need to have a man come and whisk me away to be taken care of.
i can take care of myself. and not in that women's lib tryin to proove something bullshit.
a man is never something any of us need, it's want.
we WANT them to take care of us, WANT them to pay bills, WANT them to babysitt so we can go out with our girlfriends-draw us a bubble bath and give us backs rubs, and other lovely details.
after being beaten down and treated like shit, worked our asses off with virtually no pay
damnit! we DESERVE to be taken care of-you think we'd be demanding it, but we're not. we still let them cheat on us, still let them smoke all our weed, eat our food and make us accept all those collect calls while they're in jail-we don't ask them for anything but respect in return. well, i'm not looking for respect.
(wow i sound like as much of a card carrying stereotype as the men i fuck, i mean date.
and i'm not at that point yet)
i haven't proven myself TO myself yet.
it's most inportant to me right now, to get my life organized, to get back to where i belong, and to make as much money as possible along the way.
if they're not making money, or taking me to the place where i'm gonna make my money, i don't want any part of it.
and i can't say that i've ever felt like this before. it was all about the feeling, the sensuality. the sexuality.
sex isn't important. it's nice, and it can be sooo much fun, but it's really not important. the only time sex was important was when mj was concieved.
this icy chill does take a toll on your mind though. it makes you jaded, and i've been jaded before, smoothed the chip on my shoulder and gone on to be just fine, but things have changed.
i decided, instead of waiting for life to happen to me, i'd rather happen to it.
boy does that make me sound like i'm spirited and in control.
but i'm not.
i act like i've got it all figured out.
but i don't.
can't let anymore tears fall
keep away from the bar brawls
and every time that brother calls
my voice gets small...
off to delight in green pleasures, more depressing rants later.
time to "run into the arms of fate", as my friend used to say in her melodramatic pre teen phase. seems everything was a big deal back then, and i always thought she was being so over the top, but secretly i agreed with her.
secretly i still do, but there's no one left to talk about it. not even her.
if she was here i'd get high and catch up, tell her that she was right.
now, i try to talk to other people like that and they don't get it, so i don't bother.
try to talk some deep shit to the little children out here they look at you like you got two heads.
i should specify: it's the male of the species i refer to as child.
that's for the ones out her in the snow belt at least, i wouldn't say the same at all for the juice in tarana; juice flows freely out there. like water for chocolate.
here is more like snow for vanilla, it doesn't carry with the same appeal.
am i that prejudice against men of my "own colour"
i should not aline myself against them with such a brutal attitude, but what have any of them really done for me. there are but a few who i'd love to see suffer at my own hands.
wow that's evil, though not in comparison to the things i think about yet neglect to utter...
so is that why i am here, singular, on this computer.
why am i not making money on the way home from making money.
work was not mentally possible this aft, but what was.
i wasn't waitin' to exhale, nor was i holdin it in
though everyone's failed, i'm not throwin the towel in
got me wrapped in the shadows, wonderin just where you've been
got me wrapped in your beauty, and quickly giving in
broken ramblings due to stress overload, they should be happy i haven't gone postal yet over all this shit. well, me going postal would be nothing like anyone has ever seen-so average people wouldn't notice.
me going postal would end up in red, in places people wouldn't look, for people who don't want to be found.
no one should ever want to witness what me going postal looks like.
so many changes i want to make happen, and so many conflicting directions those chanegs pull me in.
if i had a car i'd be goin on a drive every night to the middle of nowhere to scream.
yea, i know, doesn't sound like words coming from someone who's too mentally healthy.
so what. who the fuck am i trying to impress.
it's like this: i'm supposed to be this do everything, clean everything, be friends with everyone, go to work and church and be a good woman and mother. yea. not feelin it.
i'm so overwhelmed with everything, and as hard as i try to kick it straight it's never enough and i feel trapped sometimes, but there are ways out.
long gone are the days that i thought i would meet some knight in shining armour, and yes i am being melodramatic, but these tiems in my life are cause for dramatics.
and why would i need to have a man come and whisk me away to be taken care of.
i can take care of myself. and not in that women's lib tryin to proove something bullshit.
a man is never something any of us need, it's want.
we WANT them to take care of us, WANT them to pay bills, WANT them to babysitt so we can go out with our girlfriends-draw us a bubble bath and give us backs rubs, and other lovely details.
after being beaten down and treated like shit, worked our asses off with virtually no pay
damnit! we DESERVE to be taken care of-you think we'd be demanding it, but we're not. we still let them cheat on us, still let them smoke all our weed, eat our food and make us accept all those collect calls while they're in jail-we don't ask them for anything but respect in return. well, i'm not looking for respect.
(wow i sound like as much of a card carrying stereotype as the men i fuck, i mean date.
and i'm not at that point yet)
i haven't proven myself TO myself yet.
it's most inportant to me right now, to get my life organized, to get back to where i belong, and to make as much money as possible along the way.
if they're not making money, or taking me to the place where i'm gonna make my money, i don't want any part of it.
and i can't say that i've ever felt like this before. it was all about the feeling, the sensuality. the sexuality.
sex isn't important. it's nice, and it can be sooo much fun, but it's really not important. the only time sex was important was when mj was concieved.
this icy chill does take a toll on your mind though. it makes you jaded, and i've been jaded before, smoothed the chip on my shoulder and gone on to be just fine, but things have changed.
i decided, instead of waiting for life to happen to me, i'd rather happen to it.
boy does that make me sound like i'm spirited and in control.
but i'm not.
i act like i've got it all figured out.
but i don't.
can't let anymore tears fall
keep away from the bar brawls
and every time that brother calls
my voice gets small...
off to delight in green pleasures, more depressing rants later.
1/14/2007
how long does it take to forget a name
or the first time he talked to me. i was so nervous.
i was shakin' just like the leaves off the trees, and it was fall (how ironic).
his eyes where such a wonderful chestnut brown i thought i'd get lost in them. so deep and rich a colour is was that it became my favorite. now, i get to gaze into such a colour every day, as my sons eyes are just the same.
i could never look him directly in the eye at first 'cause he was the type of man to look right into a woman; not at her, or her parts. he surveyed the whole being, straight from the source, as he put it.
for the moment, i'm stuck in this melancholy state that i divert into any time someone else has a chance to look into my eyes like he did. it's better for me to sit down and write this all out while i still can express it, because it gets so muddled at times that it festers, making it damn near impossible to handle any other emotional situation as well as i should, given my age, or level of supposed maturity.
i am a woman now-pathetic that i have to remind myself of that from time to time.
but yet with time passing, it's still not getting any easier each time there approaches a date of significance. it could even be the way the weather looks outside on a particular day, how a man looks at me, or a particular tone in their voice that just brings me back all over again and makes it hard to separate past from present.
i wish i could forget now. i wish i could just tuck him away safely, along with the memories and all the times he used to sing to me; those times we used to lay in bed, faces so close together, skin on skin. we could talk for hours like that and i can still feel that warmth of his breath on my cheek, or his lips against the edge of my earlobe. he'd brush my hair back off my face and run his hand down the small of my back where it would usually stay. we would lay there just like that, and spill each other's guts out; ask each other all the questions we were afraid to ask any other time but in the dark, with music playing softly in the background.
he cried to me only once and his tears flowed down my face and neck like a river and now i can't help but want to scream because he deserved to still be here with me and he's not.
it's so silly girl, i can hear him saying; it's so silly because i have no control over what happened to him or why God took him from my world. and he would tell me the same thing and i want to scream at him for choosing his fate.
but i know he doesn't want me to cry for what seems like will be forever.
i have no control over how i feel now either, and it won't get covered up by the men that have tried feebly to be a part of my life. none have even ever come close to touching how he made me feel. none of them ever will and i'm not trying to find a suitable replacement. there is none.
in fact all of them have done a really shitty ass job of tryin to be what they thought he was to me, so that now i don't even breach the subject barely, but to mention my first love passed. of course they always want to know the details and i've just become used to flowing out a certain template of what when where and how. it's fucking boring.
i bore myself, just listening to the rehashing all this shit as if it's trite and it's not.
people try to pass off as if they understand, but how could they. i expect too much for the sympathy of strangers, cause that's what they all feel like, no matter how many years i've known them.
around his birthday, or what would've been our anniversary or the anniversary of his death i try desperately to avoid the damsel in distress routine, somehow it always seems to men as is i'm "acting a ways", or even cheatin.
totally not me, and probably never will be. it often makes me convinced that when men get that impression it is only because they in fact, are cheaters themselves. so far i've been right.
but i still come back and make as if i've dealt with it and they respect how strong they think i must be for having sustained all that heartache. yes again, woe-is-fucking-me.
well i'm not strong. it's made me weak in fact; afraid to commit and afraid to love and afraid of even getting close to anything that looks like it could be possibly end up somewhere near, what i had with him.
i have limited myself for many years because of his loss, and it's become so comfortable staying on this side of the fence, i almost believe that's just the way i am.
but it's not; it's not me. i am so passionate and caring and insightful and have so many things i could bring to union with a man who has the same, which makes it such a waste that i have been alone for this long.
so many men have tried feebly to bridge that gap but really, in the end it only ends up seeming like cover up to me. a lame effort to placate me: an its-ok-baby
in the few cases where they have been honestly genuine-i just didn't want them.
just 'cause someone throws you a life jacket doesn't mean you have to take it, especially when you know you can tread the waters long enough to wait for a bigger boat(as opposed to a dingy). i'm labeling myself superficial when really, i'm just picky.
i am not looking for the love of my life. he's already come and gone.
but i am looking for someone to spend part of my life with and i'm enjoying the moments of getting to know new people, which does mean actually mean something tangible to me now.
before, being so wrapped up in my own little world i wouldn't have even noticed.
there is always a gap; there is always that lame ass proverbial wall; always a self imposed exile that i throw myself into any time someone truly seems to appreciated me or my time.
i mean let's be honest-how lucky could this woman be to have more than one man, that she respects and appreciates-who willingly returns the flavour??
it does seem to be real for them, as it feels real for me, but then why does it end up being confusing???
it makes me sad at times and it's so ridiculous. i feel like i'm stuck at that point when i was 14, when i met him, and was like "whoa, wait a minute-you what?you care about me?".
now how sad it was that originally i didn't want to believe him when i heard the words. never had a man approached me in such a way of course; i was a baby. i couldn't recognize love when i saw it, or at least be able to see the full potential for love in my life.
now of course love's different. i'm a woman not a baby, though i seem to pathetically shrink to the fetal position every time someone wants more from me: more than just friendship, or more than just a mere attempt at skimming the surface.
at times i can be honest and just make it clear that i am not in the mode where i can go the route of being "deep". i'm just not on that playing field right now, and enjoying the company of a few, not just one. i'm not putting all my eggs in one basket at this point because maybe i really am shopping for a relationship and i want more than one choice to compare. usually when you operate like that, you end up losing the best option of all. but i wont be that sloppy.
i am gathering up all the best moments worth continuing, and just savouring them in preparation.
preparation for what i don't know just yet. but it'll show it's purpose.
i had a dream about him in the summer time; in fact not only the first dream of him in a long time, but the first dream in a long time to remember. period. it was just like many of my former dreams sequences; movie like clarity, and stylized. overwhelmingly symbolic, we were returning from a road trip, back to the scene of a huge shoot out in a house we'd been staying at in the country. it reminded me of when he took me to Lansing once. there was blood spatter on the walls and pools of it on the floor, clotted and smeared through with footprints.
there was a puppy was whining he had blood on his paws from walking through the blood in the kitchen. we went into the bedroom because we were getting ready to pack our stuff and go, but go where i have no idea. it was summer and hot but yet there was a strong breeze making the white curtains flutter back and forth.
all i could hear was the whining of the puppy, the gentle flapping of the curtains, and the rustling of clothes being shoved into a backpack repeating like a skipping record.
then just the smell of his skin, and the warmth of it close to me. i stood up against him pressing my head into his chest. he held my face in his hands and i could feel my tears dripping off his fingers and then back down onto my own neck because there were so many.
so much it makes me hurt inside as the knot pulls tighter, because i remember crying like that when i found out he was dead.
i begged and i pleaded him not to go, i said they'll kill you now they'll kill you. you have so much to live for, i'll do anything just stay with me. he gripped onto me harder as the tears kept falling and i felt like i'd lost my breath.
all he said was "you have to let me go"...
i woke up from that dream and all i wanted to do was to go back to sleep to could feel his hands on my face again; to hear the soft bass of his voice, and the warm sound of his heart beating against me.
it felt so real. the image was, and is so strong still that it's permanently etched in my mind.
all this cuts so deep sometimes making it impossible to speak. it lumps in my throat and it holds my heart in that knot. i don't want to eat or sleep or remember what he used to say to me or how he used to say it. i don't want to feel that close to someone again i don't want to lose someone again and i definitely don't want to give up as much of myself, for fear i will lose the identity that i have worked to hard to rebuild. because i did lose myself in him. when he died, i lost something i can't ever reclaim, you could cliche it as innocence, but whatever it was, the absence of such a quality, had me jaded and stuck in turmoil, for a long, long time.
i refuse to be stuck now though, but the leftover feelings still it get in the way of me being able to rationalize emotions at times.
now, i've reached a point where i just try to let myself "be" in the moment with someone. i just take stalk of feeling good about someone, or a situation and i try not to over analyze but just enjoy the time i have to enjoy.
this is a rare thing for me, just to be comfortable in doing. that laid back approach has almost become natural and it is truly liberating: to feel that free again. it had been a long road, and i still have further yet to travel; but if i just allow myself to exhale every once in a while, instead of holding it all in, i can get the fullest out of each experience.
i can revel in the moment.
seems a small mountain, but never the less a mountain at any size, is a difficult feat to accomplish.
i can feel a new breath against my cheek,
and the voice whispering in my ear,
a hand on the small of my back,
from one that is now here
i can breath fully from the source
of a man who's name is not his,
but for a smile in sky from the love,
who's name forever is.
i was shakin' just like the leaves off the trees, and it was fall (how ironic).
his eyes where such a wonderful chestnut brown i thought i'd get lost in them. so deep and rich a colour is was that it became my favorite. now, i get to gaze into such a colour every day, as my sons eyes are just the same.
i could never look him directly in the eye at first 'cause he was the type of man to look right into a woman; not at her, or her parts. he surveyed the whole being, straight from the source, as he put it.
for the moment, i'm stuck in this melancholy state that i divert into any time someone else has a chance to look into my eyes like he did. it's better for me to sit down and write this all out while i still can express it, because it gets so muddled at times that it festers, making it damn near impossible to handle any other emotional situation as well as i should, given my age, or level of supposed maturity.
i am a woman now-pathetic that i have to remind myself of that from time to time.
but yet with time passing, it's still not getting any easier each time there approaches a date of significance. it could even be the way the weather looks outside on a particular day, how a man looks at me, or a particular tone in their voice that just brings me back all over again and makes it hard to separate past from present.
i wish i could forget now. i wish i could just tuck him away safely, along with the memories and all the times he used to sing to me; those times we used to lay in bed, faces so close together, skin on skin. we could talk for hours like that and i can still feel that warmth of his breath on my cheek, or his lips against the edge of my earlobe. he'd brush my hair back off my face and run his hand down the small of my back where it would usually stay. we would lay there just like that, and spill each other's guts out; ask each other all the questions we were afraid to ask any other time but in the dark, with music playing softly in the background.
he cried to me only once and his tears flowed down my face and neck like a river and now i can't help but want to scream because he deserved to still be here with me and he's not.
it's so silly girl, i can hear him saying; it's so silly because i have no control over what happened to him or why God took him from my world. and he would tell me the same thing and i want to scream at him for choosing his fate.
but i know he doesn't want me to cry for what seems like will be forever.
i have no control over how i feel now either, and it won't get covered up by the men that have tried feebly to be a part of my life. none have even ever come close to touching how he made me feel. none of them ever will and i'm not trying to find a suitable replacement. there is none.
in fact all of them have done a really shitty ass job of tryin to be what they thought he was to me, so that now i don't even breach the subject barely, but to mention my first love passed. of course they always want to know the details and i've just become used to flowing out a certain template of what when where and how. it's fucking boring.
i bore myself, just listening to the rehashing all this shit as if it's trite and it's not.
people try to pass off as if they understand, but how could they. i expect too much for the sympathy of strangers, cause that's what they all feel like, no matter how many years i've known them.
around his birthday, or what would've been our anniversary or the anniversary of his death i try desperately to avoid the damsel in distress routine, somehow it always seems to men as is i'm "acting a ways", or even cheatin.
totally not me, and probably never will be. it often makes me convinced that when men get that impression it is only because they in fact, are cheaters themselves. so far i've been right.
but i still come back and make as if i've dealt with it and they respect how strong they think i must be for having sustained all that heartache. yes again, woe-is-fucking-me.
well i'm not strong. it's made me weak in fact; afraid to commit and afraid to love and afraid of even getting close to anything that looks like it could be possibly end up somewhere near, what i had with him.
i have limited myself for many years because of his loss, and it's become so comfortable staying on this side of the fence, i almost believe that's just the way i am.
but it's not; it's not me. i am so passionate and caring and insightful and have so many things i could bring to union with a man who has the same, which makes it such a waste that i have been alone for this long.
so many men have tried feebly to bridge that gap but really, in the end it only ends up seeming like cover up to me. a lame effort to placate me: an its-ok-baby
in the few cases where they have been honestly genuine-i just didn't want them.
just 'cause someone throws you a life jacket doesn't mean you have to take it, especially when you know you can tread the waters long enough to wait for a bigger boat(as opposed to a dingy). i'm labeling myself superficial when really, i'm just picky.
i am not looking for the love of my life. he's already come and gone.
but i am looking for someone to spend part of my life with and i'm enjoying the moments of getting to know new people, which does mean actually mean something tangible to me now.
before, being so wrapped up in my own little world i wouldn't have even noticed.
there is always a gap; there is always that lame ass proverbial wall; always a self imposed exile that i throw myself into any time someone truly seems to appreciated me or my time.
i mean let's be honest-how lucky could this woman be to have more than one man, that she respects and appreciates-who willingly returns the flavour??
it does seem to be real for them, as it feels real for me, but then why does it end up being confusing???
it makes me sad at times and it's so ridiculous. i feel like i'm stuck at that point when i was 14, when i met him, and was like "whoa, wait a minute-you what?you care about me?".
now how sad it was that originally i didn't want to believe him when i heard the words. never had a man approached me in such a way of course; i was a baby. i couldn't recognize love when i saw it, or at least be able to see the full potential for love in my life.
now of course love's different. i'm a woman not a baby, though i seem to pathetically shrink to the fetal position every time someone wants more from me: more than just friendship, or more than just a mere attempt at skimming the surface.
at times i can be honest and just make it clear that i am not in the mode where i can go the route of being "deep". i'm just not on that playing field right now, and enjoying the company of a few, not just one. i'm not putting all my eggs in one basket at this point because maybe i really am shopping for a relationship and i want more than one choice to compare. usually when you operate like that, you end up losing the best option of all. but i wont be that sloppy.
i am gathering up all the best moments worth continuing, and just savouring them in preparation.
preparation for what i don't know just yet. but it'll show it's purpose.
i had a dream about him in the summer time; in fact not only the first dream of him in a long time, but the first dream in a long time to remember. period. it was just like many of my former dreams sequences; movie like clarity, and stylized. overwhelmingly symbolic, we were returning from a road trip, back to the scene of a huge shoot out in a house we'd been staying at in the country. it reminded me of when he took me to Lansing once. there was blood spatter on the walls and pools of it on the floor, clotted and smeared through with footprints.
there was a puppy was whining he had blood on his paws from walking through the blood in the kitchen. we went into the bedroom because we were getting ready to pack our stuff and go, but go where i have no idea. it was summer and hot but yet there was a strong breeze making the white curtains flutter back and forth.
all i could hear was the whining of the puppy, the gentle flapping of the curtains, and the rustling of clothes being shoved into a backpack repeating like a skipping record.
then just the smell of his skin, and the warmth of it close to me. i stood up against him pressing my head into his chest. he held my face in his hands and i could feel my tears dripping off his fingers and then back down onto my own neck because there were so many.
so much it makes me hurt inside as the knot pulls tighter, because i remember crying like that when i found out he was dead.
i begged and i pleaded him not to go, i said they'll kill you now they'll kill you. you have so much to live for, i'll do anything just stay with me. he gripped onto me harder as the tears kept falling and i felt like i'd lost my breath.
all he said was "you have to let me go"...
i woke up from that dream and all i wanted to do was to go back to sleep to could feel his hands on my face again; to hear the soft bass of his voice, and the warm sound of his heart beating against me.
it felt so real. the image was, and is so strong still that it's permanently etched in my mind.
all this cuts so deep sometimes making it impossible to speak. it lumps in my throat and it holds my heart in that knot. i don't want to eat or sleep or remember what he used to say to me or how he used to say it. i don't want to feel that close to someone again i don't want to lose someone again and i definitely don't want to give up as much of myself, for fear i will lose the identity that i have worked to hard to rebuild. because i did lose myself in him. when he died, i lost something i can't ever reclaim, you could cliche it as innocence, but whatever it was, the absence of such a quality, had me jaded and stuck in turmoil, for a long, long time.
i refuse to be stuck now though, but the leftover feelings still it get in the way of me being able to rationalize emotions at times.
now, i've reached a point where i just try to let myself "be" in the moment with someone. i just take stalk of feeling good about someone, or a situation and i try not to over analyze but just enjoy the time i have to enjoy.
this is a rare thing for me, just to be comfortable in doing. that laid back approach has almost become natural and it is truly liberating: to feel that free again. it had been a long road, and i still have further yet to travel; but if i just allow myself to exhale every once in a while, instead of holding it all in, i can get the fullest out of each experience.
i can revel in the moment.
seems a small mountain, but never the less a mountain at any size, is a difficult feat to accomplish.
i can feel a new breath against my cheek,
and the voice whispering in my ear,
a hand on the small of my back,
from one that is now here
i can breath fully from the source
of a man who's name is not his,
but for a smile in sky from the love,
who's name forever is.
1/11/2007
so what is it
not looking to over analyze, and i can't put my finger on it, but i guess for some reason i'm feeling particularly melancholy at this particular moment in time.
maybe it was a late night phone call hier soir that sent me on this type of flow, i'm not for certain, but whatever it is,
got me feeling kind of haunted in a way.
maybe it was listening to the sound of his voice in the dark, though he wasn't in the same room, but i was wishin that he was.
not a lover, not a friend, somewhere on the way to becoming both, but a genuine effort at letting me know how he would be pursuing me. what a man! how can i not adore that?
and then there's this wonderful man at work, who ironically while i write this i am talking to on msn. i don't think we're each other's types in some ways(what is a type?), but i absolutely enjoy him in so many facets, adore his intelligence, his sensitivity and genuinely appreciate his friendship in every way. i look forward to coming in the office and catching a knowing glance. but the feeling shouldn't make me sad should it?
i guess it's my heart being pulled in different directions, making it increasingly difficult to understand which path i should follow, when normally my passionate nature makes it easy: i feel the shudder, hear the thunder and move.
i can't move now; i'm stuck in the middle.
it's the same sensation with mr late night phone call. the sound of his voice(love the sound of that man's voice), is what got me in the first place, it got me wanting to be with him in person; intrigued to see if i'd feel the same way.
and it was the most pleasant surprise, in fact "undefinable" is him. that's what i wrote the week after coming home from toronto where i spent time with him. did i mention he can sing?????oh my god that is truly the way to my heart. he has no idea. but i think he'll find out soon enough, he seems to actually be out for that, i mean, to find out what makes me, me. he seems real about it, seems to be able recognize that he's talking to a woman who's real about it too.
so what is it?what is he seeing?who is he seeing?
it's not all of me that 's for sure, he hasn't breached that emotional barrier in me yet. however i think he's the type that will want to. i'm not being arrogant, but i'm one of the few people around that can really make others feel comfortable with themselves. in the face of someone who already has foul intentions, that means a target. i'm not a target to him it seems, rather a source for more extensive exploration, and for the first time in a long time i feel i can allow some letting of the guard down to occur for that.
i've left things open for interpretation in terms of where this will lead us. i've let him know that i'm not specifically looking for a commitment, he already reminded me of what i said on that topic. seems it's got his back up in some small way. maybe only because he thinks it'll get in the way of being able to eventually have as much as he might be wanting to possess. from previous experience with men: that's everything
too many situations had them wanting more than they deserved given their own emotional output. this one i don't foresee behaving in that way, he's older. in fact i don't even know his age, but it seems he's close to 40. really though it don't matter one damn bit i am just enjoy taking full stock of each experience i haven with these people(because there is not just these two). there are so many options for men to get to know right now and few that seems like veritably sound options, i have no idea where to take it.
for now i will just let it rest and enjoy the time i have to get to know them on an individual level. i'm not going to put labels on either of them other than the one that's most important anyways. you know the title that men don't know how to spell "freind"?
am i ever blessed to have such options, and i certainly will never take them for granted.
i will just sit back, in my unassuming aquarian type way, and let it flow.
cast it out and reel it back in.
maybe it was a late night phone call hier soir that sent me on this type of flow, i'm not for certain, but whatever it is,
got me feeling kind of haunted in a way.
maybe it was listening to the sound of his voice in the dark, though he wasn't in the same room, but i was wishin that he was.
not a lover, not a friend, somewhere on the way to becoming both, but a genuine effort at letting me know how he would be pursuing me. what a man! how can i not adore that?
and then there's this wonderful man at work, who ironically while i write this i am talking to on msn. i don't think we're each other's types in some ways(what is a type?), but i absolutely enjoy him in so many facets, adore his intelligence, his sensitivity and genuinely appreciate his friendship in every way. i look forward to coming in the office and catching a knowing glance. but the feeling shouldn't make me sad should it?
i guess it's my heart being pulled in different directions, making it increasingly difficult to understand which path i should follow, when normally my passionate nature makes it easy: i feel the shudder, hear the thunder and move.
i can't move now; i'm stuck in the middle.
it's the same sensation with mr late night phone call. the sound of his voice(love the sound of that man's voice), is what got me in the first place, it got me wanting to be with him in person; intrigued to see if i'd feel the same way.
and it was the most pleasant surprise, in fact "undefinable" is him. that's what i wrote the week after coming home from toronto where i spent time with him. did i mention he can sing?????oh my god that is truly the way to my heart. he has no idea. but i think he'll find out soon enough, he seems to actually be out for that, i mean, to find out what makes me, me. he seems real about it, seems to be able recognize that he's talking to a woman who's real about it too.
so what is it?what is he seeing?who is he seeing?
it's not all of me that 's for sure, he hasn't breached that emotional barrier in me yet. however i think he's the type that will want to. i'm not being arrogant, but i'm one of the few people around that can really make others feel comfortable with themselves. in the face of someone who already has foul intentions, that means a target. i'm not a target to him it seems, rather a source for more extensive exploration, and for the first time in a long time i feel i can allow some letting of the guard down to occur for that.
i've left things open for interpretation in terms of where this will lead us. i've let him know that i'm not specifically looking for a commitment, he already reminded me of what i said on that topic. seems it's got his back up in some small way. maybe only because he thinks it'll get in the way of being able to eventually have as much as he might be wanting to possess. from previous experience with men: that's everything
too many situations had them wanting more than they deserved given their own emotional output. this one i don't foresee behaving in that way, he's older. in fact i don't even know his age, but it seems he's close to 40. really though it don't matter one damn bit i am just enjoy taking full stock of each experience i haven with these people(because there is not just these two). there are so many options for men to get to know right now and few that seems like veritably sound options, i have no idea where to take it.
for now i will just let it rest and enjoy the time i have to get to know them on an individual level. i'm not going to put labels on either of them other than the one that's most important anyways. you know the title that men don't know how to spell "freind"?
am i ever blessed to have such options, and i certainly will never take them for granted.
i will just sit back, in my unassuming aquarian type way, and let it flow.
cast it out and reel it back in.
1/09/2007
so what you want?
so i am drained to the last drop and burnt at both ends
and all the while you perpetrated that we were just friends
but not with that look or that smug ass grin
not after the math or smokin a fin
it's all lyin by your sheets just under the surface
so just tell me what part of you was truly worth it
the time you "almost" said you loved me or just the d...
the time you said you wanted all of me not only just a lickle bit
oh yea i forgot, that's someone else who said it to me
one of the ones who's now perpetratin what you thought was your p....
and you say now something different has evolved
and you say now you're dedicated and can't hang cause you're involved
ask me only one question...DO I CARE??!!
and all the while you perpetrated that we were just friends
but not with that look or that smug ass grin
not after the math or smokin a fin
it's all lyin by your sheets just under the surface
so just tell me what part of you was truly worth it
the time you "almost" said you loved me or just the d...
the time you said you wanted all of me not only just a lickle bit
oh yea i forgot, that's someone else who said it to me
one of the ones who's now perpetratin what you thought was your p....
and you say now something different has evolved
and you say now you're dedicated and can't hang cause you're involved
ask me only one question...DO I CARE??!!
1/08/2007
baad again...
I really do love my job, I have to say that every once in a while to make me realize I how lucky I am to still have it. Me lounging at home today really does put my full time hours in jeopardy, but I have to organize this house.
All the ridiculousness of Christmas wrapping, gifts, boxes, stupid ornaments I didn't put up-and all those lovely bit and pieces of weird things lying around that I owe my dog a big thank you for. All those are getting properly dealt with today TRULY!My son is no help of course, which is to be expected, but he seems to respond well to being given a task, which is impressive. Of course money is a good motivator these days with him, and I really would rather not encourage that too much. Though I guess there's no harm in rewarding the boy financially for all his hard work. That's just it, the work's never hard that I give him to do, AND, he usually doesn't do much if it!
There's got to be some convenient solution for both of us.
Recently, there has been such a huge between us that it has killed a good amount of life enjoyment. It is currently the biggest thorn in my side of course, because he is ultimately the most important person in my life. I did not suffer and sacrifice everything, just to raise him amongst constant emotional conflict. My family is no help, and will continue that way, so it's really up to me to pull up my boot straps and handle it like the head of the household that I am.
Maybe it's his male nature that's coming into fruition, and his Mom is just a little slow to catch up. He certainly seems to be making moves to assert himself as the man of the house(which I'm all for if he doesn't get disrespectful), and I guess I wasn't ready to accept the fact that this is a natural process.
I am currently the man of the house!
Hey, sounds weird, but I am everything, and it's really hard to manage that presence when you've got your hands in so many pockets, trying to gather all the lose change in each of the million pairs of pants you own.
But to maintain my status as idealist: there must be a way to manage all these roles and not feel cheated or beleaguered at the end of the day. I don't want to be emotionally exhausted everyday, but when I have to be quicker to recognize the feeling and take a load off every once in a while. It gets boring.
In fact the pattern him and I have had of argument after argument has gotten real tired, real fast and it's killing the joy of having such a cool kid to call my son. He has so much potential and I don't want to see it go to waste because he's trying to rebel against me. Maybe I have to stop giving him so many reasons to do rebel in the first place...
I have yet to find an adequate plan of action to follow through with, I've had many wonderful ideas on managing his emotional outburst, but I've run out of creativity for the most part. And it's definitely not for lack of trying.
But I am a resourceful woman, and I'm not about to let this run me down, because if I'm run down so is he and no good can ever come out of that.
The complication is that I have a renewed sense of self that needs recognizing, and that will also be a challenge for him to accept. However, there has been so much emphasis on the negative in our mother/son relationship, that both our senses of selves seem to get lost in the commotion. I am screaming for him to recognize, and he's screaming back. Maybe if we both shut up, we'll be able to her what the other one in trying to get across. I must admit, I have been unwilling to listen for quite some time, due to his unruly behavior.
I was dedicated to pull through the overwhelming ordeal that was the process of bringing him into the world, and I am ever more dedicated to the process of letting him develop positively, so that he can always be the center of my universe, with no intermission and always be my world.
That seems so heavy a thought due to the fact of his young age, but I refuse to let this hiatus develop into a situation where he'll be so quick to get away from me(as he gets older), that he'd be willing to get himself into serious trouble, just to avoid being home with me.
I do see that happening, it happened already with my mother and I, so knowing what I know I'd be a complete and utter fool to let it happen again.
Off to clean dishes, love the dog and spread some positive vibes throughout this chaotic house...til next thought.
All the ridiculousness of Christmas wrapping, gifts, boxes, stupid ornaments I didn't put up-and all those lovely bit and pieces of weird things lying around that I owe my dog a big thank you for. All those are getting properly dealt with today TRULY!My son is no help of course, which is to be expected, but he seems to respond well to being given a task, which is impressive. Of course money is a good motivator these days with him, and I really would rather not encourage that too much. Though I guess there's no harm in rewarding the boy financially for all his hard work. That's just it, the work's never hard that I give him to do, AND, he usually doesn't do much if it!
There's got to be some convenient solution for both of us.
Recently, there has been such a huge between us that it has killed a good amount of life enjoyment. It is currently the biggest thorn in my side of course, because he is ultimately the most important person in my life. I did not suffer and sacrifice everything, just to raise him amongst constant emotional conflict. My family is no help, and will continue that way, so it's really up to me to pull up my boot straps and handle it like the head of the household that I am.
Maybe it's his male nature that's coming into fruition, and his Mom is just a little slow to catch up. He certainly seems to be making moves to assert himself as the man of the house(which I'm all for if he doesn't get disrespectful), and I guess I wasn't ready to accept the fact that this is a natural process.
I am currently the man of the house!
Hey, sounds weird, but I am everything, and it's really hard to manage that presence when you've got your hands in so many pockets, trying to gather all the lose change in each of the million pairs of pants you own.
But to maintain my status as idealist: there must be a way to manage all these roles and not feel cheated or beleaguered at the end of the day. I don't want to be emotionally exhausted everyday, but when I have to be quicker to recognize the feeling and take a load off every once in a while. It gets boring.
In fact the pattern him and I have had of argument after argument has gotten real tired, real fast and it's killing the joy of having such a cool kid to call my son. He has so much potential and I don't want to see it go to waste because he's trying to rebel against me. Maybe I have to stop giving him so many reasons to do rebel in the first place...
I have yet to find an adequate plan of action to follow through with, I've had many wonderful ideas on managing his emotional outburst, but I've run out of creativity for the most part. And it's definitely not for lack of trying.
But I am a resourceful woman, and I'm not about to let this run me down, because if I'm run down so is he and no good can ever come out of that.
The complication is that I have a renewed sense of self that needs recognizing, and that will also be a challenge for him to accept. However, there has been so much emphasis on the negative in our mother/son relationship, that both our senses of selves seem to get lost in the commotion. I am screaming for him to recognize, and he's screaming back. Maybe if we both shut up, we'll be able to her what the other one in trying to get across. I must admit, I have been unwilling to listen for quite some time, due to his unruly behavior.
I was dedicated to pull through the overwhelming ordeal that was the process of bringing him into the world, and I am ever more dedicated to the process of letting him develop positively, so that he can always be the center of my universe, with no intermission and always be my world.
That seems so heavy a thought due to the fact of his young age, but I refuse to let this hiatus develop into a situation where he'll be so quick to get away from me(as he gets older), that he'd be willing to get himself into serious trouble, just to avoid being home with me.
I do see that happening, it happened already with my mother and I, so knowing what I know I'd be a complete and utter fool to let it happen again.
Off to clean dishes, love the dog and spread some positive vibes throughout this chaotic house...til next thought.
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