Lovesick
The morning light awakens my mind, but my eyes are closed. I'm wrapped in the warmth of the bed. It holds me like you did the night before. How you made me ache for you.
I remember how you pulled me in for a kiss, like so many times before. This is comfortable. This is peaceful. This is home.
But this time is different. Your hands a little firmer. Your lips a little hungrier. I feel your touch ripple down to the ends of my fingers and toes. Innocent anticipation. My breath rises to match yours.
"May I?" You say. Yes. Always yes. The asking of the question bewitches me and my answer is always yes.
I struggle to speak. Struggle to do much of anything but cling to you as you melt me and make me yours. What a difference between night and day. There I am strong and confident. Here I am weak - in the very best of ways.
I shake at the peak and call out your name. You are proud of me. You love me. You take care of me. After shocks lap like waves against the shores. I listen to them slowly fade. Hold me while we sleep my love. I am safe in your arms. Let your soft snores lull me to sleep.
Morning. I wake to an empty bed. You are nearly ready to leave. You will soon be gone. I find you by the door tying your laces.
No. Please don't go.
A quick hug and then you close the door behind you. I watch your car drive away and my chest caves in. Tearless crying. Empty, scratching in my chest. I fall to my knees and try to breathe. When I will see you again? How you make me ache for you.
Purge the Poison
Purge. Purge the poison. Purge the lies and the hate and the disgust.
That is not me anymore.
That is not the god I worship.
Cleanse the shame. Embrace the soul.
It was never wrong. It was never ugly.
God made it beautiful. Human fear thought it not.
Fray. Fall apart in the arms of a dear friend.
Tell them you're sad, but you don't know why.
If all is good, why do you cry? Grief. Grief for what should have been.
I will not return to that poisoned land.
I will stay here where it is safe, where it is peaceful, where it is home.
The love back then was blighted.
And I have found clear springs.
Mondays
I don't know what it is about Mondays that everyone hates. It's just another day to me. It's a return to the grind of work and early mornings. Monday is a sober day. But what's so bad about that? If the weekend happened to continue through Monday, then we would all resent Tuesday. Saturday and Sunday reign supreme. Monday takes the fall and all the other days thank her for it.
People speak in mysterious ways. We find something subtly impressive and we call it AWESOME. We blow a little extra air from our nose and reply with an LOL. We exaggerate a situation and throw in a LITERALLY and all of a sudden it sounds dramatic. We dislike returning to work and we say we hate Mondays. Why?
Why do we ignore our innermost desires when we are so eager to satisfy our cravings? Perhaps because it scares us or would make life uncomfortable for a while. By all means, if your dream makes you uncomfortable then surely you ought to find a new one. Why live a single moment of unpleasantness when you have Pop tarts and Netflix to soothe your tired body? This way of living has kept you going for this long, so why stop now? Why fix what isn't broken? Let some one else change the world.
But who is going to change your world? Your mother? Your boyfriend? Your four cats? No. It's up to you. You decide whether you live or simply go on existing. You could finish that entire bag of Cheetos or you could bike through that forest trail on the other side of the river. You could drive a Mercedes or you could travel all over Europe. It doesn't cost as much as you think. You could live a passionate life. Or not. Actually, I think there's a new episode of Supernatural out. It would be easier to just watch that instead. Yeah, good plan.
Damn it. Tomorrow's Monday.