“Stay Safe from The Corona Virus...”
They were the final, cool words which I allowed to be imparted to me by my imaginary future.
“Yeah right,” I thought to myself. He’d neglected any real interaction with me for nearly a month and the best he could offer was a cryptic, public service announcement.
It was Valentines Day, a day I care not celebrate, however, the timing of his flat, pseudo sentiment was apropos.
I offered a response to my love, prior to abrubtly ejecting him from my contacts, however, I knew it would take much longer to scrape his residue from my heart and mind: After I allowed him to see me. Yes. I believe he will be the last.
I should never have smiled at him...showed myself as vulnerable, open, willing to be duped. It’s gotten me entangled with the wrong sort before. Now, I understand. My smile is a help and a hurt.
I finally replied to him: “Due to underreported and cascading symptoms of the Corona virus, I’ve been stricken with intermittent blindness (unable to see his deadly games for what they were, from the start). Oh well...I tried for 3 years to ’stay safe,’as he called it (by guarding my heart)... to no avail.”
I’m having heart woes tonight.
Now I must ruminate a bit....The One!
My love goose is irreparably cooked...game over...out of time.
Maybe not...
#cookedgoose#noloveisthebestlove#lies#loverocks#notforme#maybeyou#suckstobeme#pityparty#carryon#lovegames#writerstherapy#tomorrow#shadan
Before His Time
He chose himself.
Romance sold her a myth of an ever adoring suitor laying down his life for the honor of his lady fair and at any time she was ready.
Reality spun a different tale.
He chose his path.
What is a man? Can he be well without a personal mission?
She met her king, decked out in the attire of a prince.
When a ruler is in one’s midst, his presence is undeniable.
Manufactured romance had done the lady a disservice. It deceived her. She believed he would sacrifice his mission for her love.
He chose well. He chose to rise to his glory. He chose to maintain his focus.
His words which weren’t words pierced her, tearing the thin veil which protected her weakness, and she was elated. He saw her heart!
She was a mother, a lover, a counselor and in possession of a sharp mind.
She was fragile and soft but weathered.
She was a flower.
She was his queen!
He didn't know
His mind was set, however, his body under control and his steps aligned. He had no time for her love. Her love, as he surmised, could only stymie his potency and power.
They were saluting ships, amiss in their timing.
He chose his purpose and she relented...
“Purpose. Plan. Push,” the king recited. "Your appointment with me is far off, my lady fair. I’ll love you once I’ve recieved my handsome reward...a kingdom.
Visit me then," he declared
The queen bid her king farewell. She met him before his time.
...And her time had passed
Amen (let it be so)
©Crystal Black for blackhandmade, 2/7/2020
#king#love#writer#new#flower#purpose#man#mission#decision#letgo#royal#time#youth#maydecember#foryou
They Say...
They Say love takes time, yet They don't say how much
They Say true love must be tried by fire…They don't say what kind of fire...could it be my lack of trust?
They Say men don’t love like women…They weren't there went we locked eyes and spoke love through our knowingness of the other's heart.
His gaze, one day, started to fade away. I turned my eyes away to avoid the pain….the humiliation of his vanishing act.
I invested too much of myself…too soon, I bemoaned! Now, nothing’s gold.
I love him. I'm over him. I'm better than him. I need him. I'm okay without him. I'm not okay with me. I miss you and me.
My heart is sick. They never told me how the sickness would feel. My eyes burn with stinging water.
His zeal and fire for me, while brief, was electrifying!
It's the lonliest of all of the kinds of love, it seems....this electric love.
They Say, "Love takes time…the best love must be tried by fire….men don’t love like women."
They Say because They have felt this suffering.
I see his footprints now...they're leaving me, yet forever imbeded in my heart.
I tested the recipe without studying its ingredients. Now, I know better...
They Say was right all along!
©Crystal Black for blackhandmade 02/02/2020
#love#unrequited#maydecember#romance#hurt#suffering#tears#why#questions#wisdom#Godislove
Pixie Dust
When a woman's heart is underdeveloped, from her youth
She will tell herself all sorts of fables, believing her heart can be filled, if only HE...
When that same woman's heart is broken
She will tell herself all sorts of fables, believing her heart can be healed, if only SHE...
When this woman's true worth is made known to her and she honors it, there will no longer exist fables in her heart which begin with IF...
©11/22/19 Crystal Black for Blackhandmade
...Tomorrow
Tomorrow never came...
If it had, I believe I would have liked getting to know you. Maybe I like you.
Tomorrow never came...
If it had, I would have made up for my neglect, or perhaps not.
Tomorrow never came...
If it had, I would not be wondering if I missed a good opportunity with you.
Tomorrow never came....
If it had, I may never have realized that tomorrow is a gift I cannot promise.
Tomorrow never came, for us
If it had, I would not be writing about, yesterday.
I said I would call, you trusted I would call...I should have called... before tomorrow.
©
Crystal Black for blackhandmade
10/26/2019
Finally
-Alas, the earth rested and peace was welcomed throughout
-Man, woman and child were no more by sunset
-The animals of the earth could smell the pending sleep of humanity which was to come
-Twigs of trees, like arms, waved in surrender, thirsting for a
new day
-The sun, moon and stars gave notice to all living creatures that relief was in wait of the
horizon
-All waters grew still with murmerings as though a supersonic call, ushering in worldwide peace, had washed upon the atmosphere...waters and atmosphere speak a common language.
-The wind breathed the secret of eternity, “7 days,”audible to all living, save for those erected and recycled of the dust. The dusters, as rarely described, are a bit hard of hearing...fatefully, to their demise.
Crystal Black for blackhandmade
10/1/2019
Amen.
She desires a hand to hold, one which is bold, not brash or brazen
She desires a front row seat to his mental agility which brings on his hard earned sweat, yet instead she encounters minds which are set on deception and deflection
She desires a guiding light toward a vision larger than her heart; he must see beyond the long stretch of her arm, which requires a mental focus independent of charm
She desires him, wherever he may be, to never allow his adoration to depart while always securing her trust ...it is his reasonable part
All of her days, she will support him with the respect, admiration and loyalty she can sustain.
Honestly, she desires God.
Amen?
© Crystal Black for blackhandmade
10/1/2019
Man of Moonlight: A Progressive Ode
Man of moonlight, illuminate me
The lesser of two great lights you cannot be
Your guiding beam tempers darkness where the eye cannot see
Man of moonlight, wherever you rise, never cease to consider me…
The greater light burns fiercely throughout the day, even penetrating human skin
While your calming ray stands guard over the night beckoning peace unto all men
The subtle shine, which you exude, captures the collective agreement of all
Never brazen but always present, you unwaveringly rise to a divine call
You have eight distinguishing phases which renders you starkly unique
The greatest light you are, especially in your fullness, showcases your power at its peak
Man of moonlight, illuminate me
The lesser of two great lights you cannot be
I will look to you at the evening tide, awaiting your soft, blue hue
Trusting your light to appear where you’ll announce the dawn, presenting itself anew
©
8/5/2019/ Crystal Black for blackhandmade
Daddy Issues: Atom
He loved her when she could do nothing for herself
His love expressed while coaching her, by his sure but tender hand, to get back in the game
He loved her when she believed she could do everything for herself
His love expressed in the knowingness of his gaze as she feverishly designed a blue print for her life, spanning 30 years.
He loved her when she realized some things in life cannot be planned;
Her heart was wounded for the first time
His love expressed in the gentle way he pulled her close, shielding her in his own way from the fiery darts of life aimed at his little girls heart.
He loved her when he watched her bring life into the world
His love expressed in the way he stood in the wings while this new life was welcomed into her own daddy’s arms.
He especially loved her when he awoke from his slumber and realized he’d never been any of those things to her...
His love expressed by the daily prayers he continually offered up as a holy sacrifice, on her behalf, for the rest of his years.
He committed himself in the only way he knew, by leaning on the One who had loved and protected her always...
“His grace is sufficient”
©
7/21/19
Crystal Black, as blackhandmade
#daddy#healing#Godislove#protection#Him#daughter#prayer
Message Received
She quietly ended the telephone conversation, bid her customer farewell and slowly, every so carefully, returned the telephone receiver to its base.
Now, I’d keenly listened to the woman submit to this necessary but rote action multiple times per day, every day, for over five months, and each time I heard her telephone receiver lock down, I cringed, lately to the point a swift shudder of heat rolled over my skin, albeit momentarily.
Yes, it was irritating me. I mean, I didn’t know it could take sooo long to hang up a phone.
Recently though, I’d begun feeling like the mad protagonist of Edgar Allen Poe’s Tell-Tale Heart—ready to snap into a small fit of delirium over “the sound, THE SOUND“ of the plastic receiver being set into its base, ever so methodically. Click—click, click—click was all I heard.
Don’t worry, concerned readers, no need to be checking the internet for deals on strait jackets, but you’ve been forewarned.
My hearing, I believe, is sometimes overly attuned to the airwaves. So much so, it’s hard for me at times to regulate.
I digress...
One day, I pondered my sensitivity to the seemingly small, telephonic violation and considered why it snagged my attention so easily. Then I turned my focus away from the talking tool and toward her.
Why did she hang up the phone THAT way and why did her WAY fluster me so? Then I got a clue!
What I recognized about those small moments throughout the day, outside of the fact I really needed to laugh at myself (it helps tremendously you know), was something special about THAT woman.
It wasn’t “the sound” of the receiver connecting with its base which pleaded for my attention, stymied my work groove and made me want to call out “would you just hang it up already!”
The steady control she used to measuredly handle the small instrument—quietly, consistently, and with resolute cadence commanded my pause and attention. I should know—I watched her (smiling).
It was the rhythmic pace, that process of hers, which interjected on my mental activity and forced me to take note.
No matter the nature of the woman’s many telephone calls, be they light, mundane, heartily cheerful or often times tense, the woman granted steadfast care to something as unassuming as a telephone, as only she would.
My comrade revealed a component of her unique self, a part of her which directs my “inward” self to a higher level of human relations and virtue.
It was self control I was witnessing every day, delivered by the simplest of tasks, and the agitation I felt was caused by the forced pause I experienced each time I heard the clicking of the telephone receiver, signifying a definitive end to a conversation.
The forced pause was contrary to my skin but piqued the interest of my higher self. The competing nature of the two, my skin and my higher self, is what caused the conflict I was experiencing within, rather than the rote act of hanging up a phone.
The habitual nature and comfort of my skin wanted to press through the day without interruption but my higher, inward self was curious about that pause which required time for an extra step, more thoughtfulness, a slower pace and a moment for reflection. The pause, I perceived, was a better way to engage the day and consider a more mindful approach to daily interactions with all things.
Today, I both value and respect the imprint the woman’s habit has left with me!
We’ll call the woman, Temperance... Click—click!
©
Crystal Black, as Blackhandmade
3/12/2014