Don't you dare Give me hope.

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Don't you dare Give me hope.
It hurts like an indian burn on my heart and I've been weeping quietly in the back of my head, far away from it all. I've shown it before only to be shunned and I built the walls up a little higher, pulled the gate a little tighter, But it won't go away and I'm afraid I might break, fall and shatter.
I was walking along, ticking off to do's in my mind. There were so many to attend to and I was distracted enough by them that the circus around me couldn't pull my attention away from them.
Then I saw him. Younger, like the pictures i remember of him and as I approached, our eyes locked us in a vile dance and my heart lurched into my throat and my feet forgot how to walk, causing me to plod along like a child in clown shoes. I didn't stop. I couldn't. But my eyes wouldn't break from his. The closer I got to him, the more he morphed from who he was in my memory into an ogre. I don't know if he recognized me. I'm a woman now, no longer a child. Something told me he knew. a flicker of recognition in his black eyes, but was too ashamed to acknowledge the whole situation.
i continued on past him, not knowing what else to do. once i was unlocked from his gaze, my mind whorled and spiraled. it was not a fun ride. my knees buckled and i crumpled to the ground. the next thing i knew i was laying on the gravelly sawdust looking through a tunnel of wooden slats up at a blue sky dappled with fluffy white clouds. as i came to, the wooden slats of the gates receeded and i knew where i was once again. i was embarrassed and felt weak for being on the ground. i marveled at the fact that not a single person saw me go down...that had to have been the case or someone would've for sure helped me. i mustered up my strength and stood up. a fat man and his wife stood not 2 feet next to the site of my downfall, so engrossed in the deep fried fat they were about to consume that they either didn't or chose not to see me in my minute (or hour? who knows how long i was out) of need. as i walked by them, i yelled "shame on you, you piece of shit!"
Oasis
The sun shone down on her and baked her skin taught. At first it felt good, but after enough time, oppressive. The more tight her skin got, the more angry and red it got; especially the parts of it that were brandished toward the light like some kind of sacrificial offering. I offer you this, the tip of my nose, the tops of my shoulders, the fore of my head, in exchange for sparing me the horrid experience of cooking my entire being. Her skin screamed as it cracked and split, but she trudged on, insistently and somewhat delirious. Cool whispers of an oasis kept tickling her ears, taunting her to find it, teasing her with promises of relief. The mere thought of such a treasure provided respite enough from the oppressive blazing above her that she was able to find that something inside of her to push her onward.
a look and a stolen kiss tell tales of untold beauty
Fuck.
There's nothing I hate more than when I'm responsible for a fuck up that paints another in a bad light.
It's all about perspective and respect, people. Give respect, get respect. Shift your perspective and suddenly the light reveals things that had previously been shadowed. These are the things I am learning after 20 years in a relationship. Better late than never.
I don't have any flowery words. I am just happy. Plain and simple.
And it feels wonderful.
the flow
I've been MIA. I've been fighting the good fight, bringing myself through the thick and the thin to arrive here. Dare I say, I am happy? Dare I say, satisfied?
Yes, I dare...fuck the fear of jinxes.
I have worked hard, so hard no fears have their hold on me I shucked them aside, aware of them, indeed, but not beholden to them. I have jumped into life with both feet and am immersed in the flow.
Feels good, damn good to not fight anymore so nice to be one with the currents buoyed by the discoveries awaiting beyond the bend...
anyone know what happened to boxwineconnoisseur?
emergency
watching an ambulance part traffic with a piercing siren screaming impatient urgency life paused witnessing humanity pulling desperate bootstraps never knowing the end result from behind my wheel feeling wonder as the world doesn't miss a beat and keeps on turning as soon as the wailing passes.
the urge to move forward so obvious in the face of emergency.
fighting to swim upstream only to find that's where you'll die
seems better to relax, let the flow cradle and hold you delicately.
I lament the fact that happiness elicits such a suspicious feeling.
So instead, I'm going to allow myself to feel happiness, come what may.
Return to Me
The feeling of watching a storm from a cozy nook. Firelight on your face. Crisp blue-grey bright stars shining on a blanket of black. A warm mug between cold fingers. Laughter. Holding hands.
She sat staring at the bright white screen, fingers poised over ASDFJKL:, just barely grazing the keys with her fingertips. She thought about her life and wanted to write the truth as she perceived it in her mind. She wanted to, but she didn't dare. The truth as she knew it was darker than she ever let on to anyone. Her truth was sadder than she wanted it to be and to commit her truth to the back-lit black on white screen that transmitted it to the world would be tantamount to opening up her war torn, tear stained heart for all to see.
a love
A love is a tender thing. It's powerful though, credit must be given where credit is due. A love can make a blind man see, can fill the voids, can overcome the lowest lows, and can even overtake unsuspecting bystanders. But one must never forget that at its core, in its purest form, it is tender. If left unattended, it may just dissipate back into the ether from which it came, collapsing into itself under its own weight and leaving any remnant of the relationship it rode upon fractured or, worse yet, completely unrecognizable. A love serves as the bond that holds two beings close to one another. If nurtured, it will grow over time, neglect will never do this.
Take this tender thing in both your hands, cupped with pure intention or run the risk of losing it forever. Time can be a friend or foe, the choice is always up to you.
Wow. Thanks to everyone who hearted & reblogged broken hearted...especially Noelle for getting the ball rolling on that one. Much appreciated!
Such a nice thing to see on a dreary Monday morning. xoxo