pieces

"Your body like a searchlight, my poverty revealed. I would like to try your charity, until you cry: Now you must try my greed. And everything depends upon how near you sleep to me. Take this longing from my tongue, all the lonely things my hands have done. Let me see your beauty broken down, like you would do for the one you love." - LC

Somersault

And is that why they call me a sullen girl?

The way we deal with grief, defines who we are. When people find themselves struggling they tend to look for a comforting place to lay their troubles, to be welcomed with warmth and acceptance, and embraced in all willingness and with no signs of constraint. A time when what you truly need is to be read, to have someone beside you to listen to you while you confess. Here's a little segment I call: never again. 

Feeling a need for a certain thing, can be quite overpowering; to an extend where, one might say they have gone out of character to hold and obtain that thing. My mother had always been a strong figure, ever since I could remember, she taught me that the only way to go further in life is to develop a tough shell; don't lose your tears to just about anyone or anything and so I guess I grew up, mimicking what I was brought up and ought to be. A little lesson I call: not me. 

Someone once told me that, when they read the pieces I write, they feel that as if I'm cheating myself for the way I get rid of feelings and how I choose to implicate them through writings. To all it's own, sometimes verbalising can take it's toll, and in all honesty I have always had an old, odd and an irreplaceable love affair with letters in typing! If someone takes the time to read what you have to write, then why bother with saying a thing after that? A little lesson I call: chicken and egg. 

The state of being in oblivion, is without a doubt, a state I foremost cherish, however I'm not talking about unnecessary supplements when I say that (Hi, mum) no, I mean the want to get away, and escape the people and their hectic atmosphere, when you can't seem to fit in there. A fear of being forgotten is almost crippling, especially when that fear is associated with a person who tends to push when it says pull. If there was anything I would ever regret, it would be the abandoning and losing of those that matter most. The casually cruel way I always tend to go. A little lesson I call: trust issues (Bye, drake)

Everybody wants something, those that claim they don't; simply haven't figured out what it is they want, yet. I'm a liar; I choose not to tell the truth, and that is for one reason only; a truth would lead to more questions, and questions demand answers; answers that I'm not willing to give, maybe not yet. maybe not ever. Whatever it is that I'm shutting down, would probably remain that way for awhile. Indulgence was never a habit of mine; and perhaps thats a lie, however in order to properly do it, I'd have to find a way to compromise. A little lesson I am yet to understand. 

Dove Gray

Maybe all we'll ever get to have are the memories of the time we've spent together; it's been so long since we went back to that place, and perhaps that's good, you've never been the sentimental kind and my memory tend to fail me most of the time. Maybe these memories are enough of an indicator that my feelings for you were somewhat true, but what good would that do, when a distance is the only thing you've ever asked of me to do? Maybe you'll be lucky and you'll find someone new, who'll treat you the way I was always afraid to do. And maybe, just maybe you'll remember me when I said: I hope a day would come when you'll forget we've ever met.

I talk about luck when I talk about you; only because I hope your luck isn't anywhere near through, I'm not a lucky man and that I know for sure, yet I can't help but think that a silly thing like luck had led me to you, or maybe not; perhaps a coincidence is more true when I recall the way I've met you. It's funny how, after all we've been through, I still manage to talk about hope, like I haven't ran out of it too. I talk about hope but I see a different image pushing through, yet my mind still finds a way to reach you. I'm not a lucky man and you know that's true, I'd rather stand alone on a fading hope that i'll forget you.

You told me about your fears when you felt safe enough to share them with me, and I don't think I'll ever know, how much it took of you to do so. Not an easy one to read; and at first, I wished you would mislead, a tease like me, that was too easy to please. You told me about your dreams; though you've kept a few, yet a vivid image of a family by a beach is too strong to remove. You told me about yourself; but only a little, for me to understand that trust wasn't a thing you'd ever grant. As I recall how you were, and who you were, to me; all I seem to vaguely sense and see, is a fragment of a mystery.

I wonder if tonight you'll think of me, and if the mood is right; you'll decide to write for me. To be strangers is what I fear to be, but perhaps its too late for me. I'm not the one, you should be making an enemy, but if I've hurt you once; then let your walls break me. I'm not good at saying much, when its time to say enough, and so I fear a day would come, when my weighted words won't be enough.

Soft Skin

Behind the walls of shared deceit; where both their fantasies came to meet, he asked not to speak for lustful words would often mislead; a hope that he might someday decide to lead. She kissed his cheek and with no retreat, fell into a lie, she no longer sought to keep.

"You're beautiful" he breathed, against her soft skin he found an ease, he traced her figure, inhaled then exhaled the scent that glued to her skin deep, took a moment, to stop and tease; or perhaps a moment to appreciate the rare beauty that was hard to leave.

Obscure in her words, she held him close to prevent the doubt that often had him enclosed; unaware of where her mind goes, and his assumptions always made it worse, a doubt was to be in clover from fear of ever getting closer.

She gave him a part of her; a part that was abused by another, the same part he admired, another man had desired, the same part he caressed and touched down the same route another man had forced his way in to reach its bloom, the part of her that she was told beautiful, the same part both men had told her was beautiful.

To learn to love, a woman like her, who never learned that she had a thing to offer, beneath a soft skin that was her delicate cover, to learn to appreciate her true colour when its finally bared and discovered, to learn to look for the eyes that speak behind the disguise, to learn to seek then comfort the soul that was once left tattered and torn.

Give her your time when she asks for it, be patient, willingly inclined to read between the lines of who she is, give her a chance to see that there's much more to her than what he made her perceive, and finally get her to embrace that her beauty isn't a source of disgrace.

Inside their make-believe, a sentimental state in which they craved and longed to stay, a daydream they both shared, lost within the vague blissful state it made, clinging to what has come to pass, and no questions were asked, he traced her thighs with his fingers, brushing over the soft skin that made it easy to linger, she closed her eyes and inhaled the deep desire he exhaled, knowing fully what awaits her in the remains of this escape. 

Restless Sleep

There's not much time left
Yet you'll find me waiting
And I've cried in distress
Broke into an awakening
I can't seem to make sense
Of what to come and go
I need more this time than:
'That's just the way it goes'

I don't think of you as much
I try not to do
I've always hid behind these rocks
And walls that shut me through
You're not here with me
And I can't seem to reach you
These words are bond to choke me;
A shaken prayer, promise, to mislead you

Take the memories and leave the past
Filled with the mistakes of a missed chance
Dwell on sadness and painful times
Of hospital visits, surgical cuts and lines
I fail to reminisce even when I'm alone
My memories come to miss
By a sight of you alone.
I won't forget what you were like before
But I can't seem to remember you anymore

There's not much left to say
All I'm left with is to wait
Silence and hope decay
And all feelings left today
Still I can't seem to find a way
To end the restless sleep today
So I'll start again tomorrow
I'll get rid of you
Yet you'll find a way to follow

The Gift

"You must be brave enough to look deeper into a man to understand the nature of his heart" An old soothsayer once told me; though I'm not one to believe in that and the future always seemed too far to grasp still somehow behind all the wrinkles and lines that stretched and aligned that woman's face; giving it a distinct and unique shape, her hazel eyes that hint a pain of all the faces she proclaimed to have helped gain, I found myself drawn more into her lies; voluntarily I sat down outpouring my soul into her hand.

"You're a resister, my darling" She said as she touched and traced the lines on my palm; with her eyes shut, she caressed my hand, I looked at her face trying to read the expressions it was starting to make, but I came out with nothing, like a well adjusted routine, she sighed then slowly moved her hand to my wrist, gently stroking as she tried to ease me out of my resist. "Not a believer as well" she whispered almost to herself, with a slight hint to condescend, she kept on stroking my wrist then moving back to my palm, with regularity that was starting to make me calm, but before I could get used to it, she stopped then let my hand free. I looked at her, she was looking at me; both unaware of what's in between, I leaned in to hear what she had seen.

"You have a gift, my darling, but you seem to have forgotten. Theres a dwelling sadness that lingers within you; a bundle you have collected then carried everywhere you've moved. A past that managed to make and keep you blue because of consequences that weren't due. A young girl that looks a lot like you, crying over the night she had been forced to bloom; a wrong direction that was taken, made you lose faith in all that is you should take-in. No wonder you resist, my darling... how can you believe in anything, after what you have witnessed?"

I shook my head, trying to prevent the tears from rolling down, my hands were trembling and it seemed as if my entire body was. She fixated her eyes upon me; without giving away a readable expression, I inhaled what seemed to be the final-few chunks of air and told her to carry on.

"You have a gift, my darling, but you choose not to embrace it. Going through your life everyday with a disguise you have made, what a pity; for it is possible to come across it, but you would rather alter the way for your heart to deny it then cast it away. Love is running thick inside of you, but before you let it show, you must be able to let a man near you, to understand and know you, to embrace and hold you, to like then love you,  before you allow him to enter you. You can't refuse it any longer, my darling, you have grown stronger, learn to forgive the misbehaves of others and let yourself spare a chance for another."

She held her hand out to me, and I took it in, gently stroking my sweaty palm to ease my shakiness, she gave a warm smile, I nodded and told her to carry on.

"You have a gift, my darling, and I know you can feel it, unhappy; you lead a life filled with weariness, you've gotten accustomed to a game that managed to relieve the temporary loneliness, still somehow couldn't manage to cease the emptiness. Everything felt above the surface; no true meaning behind all the words that'd been said. It's time to give up the act my darling, and to undress the disguise that's been hiding the mess. You must be willing to indulge in yourself before you attempt to open up.

You have a gift, my darling, and its levitating more now, allow yourself to feel what you have resisted for so long, the people that care will stay and those that don't are much easier to wash away. Don't let your sadness swallow you. Give in to the river that floods within you. Don't resist the gift, my darling... For the gift is you."