You are only a toothbrush.

Disposable.

I think not.

Every morning, you work for me. You do your job unlike no other;

Cleaning; Freshening; removing everything foreign, detrimental and unwanted;

Entering my orbicularis oris like a soldier ready to give their life on the battlefield.

Oh my dear dear toothbrush we have had a relationship like no other so

It does comes with great sadness that I must say,

The time has come for us to part

You see, I have come to learn you are nothing but A Harbinger of Decay,

Disposable afterall.

Who knew?

I’ve been happily married for nearly four years now, happily together for nearly eleven.

When you’re single, you resent happy couples, and I get that; however, when you’re a couple, you get tired of listening to single people whine as well.

The most vexing comment we often hear is, “Oh, you two are so lucky.”

Lucky?

Is that what you think?

Was it luck that both of us spent most of our lives focused on our own personal development, goals, careers, and sense of self/center before we ventured forth to find a prospective partner?

Was it luck that both of us spent hours - I don’t even want to recount - plugging away at online dating site questionnaires, reading profiles, messaging sometimes for nothing, blocking unwanted advances, and sifting through potential partners like finding a needle in a haystack?

Was it luck that we put ourselves out there on dates, bad and good, trying to make a connection multiple times until we finally did?

Was it luck that we spent our first year together miserable and fighting, putting in so much energy just to make it that we barely held together?

Was it luck that we continue to spend hours talking things out, arguing, making up, compromising, and acknowledging that our lives are no longer our own?

Oh, sweet lonely fools - if you think romance is all about luck or even some twist of fickle fate, then I would have to say you’re doing it wrong.

Love is work. Love is committment. Love is hard.

The only part luck has to play in it is finding someone else who agrees on those points, when the world likes to think we’re just magical Oreo cookies looking for our missing halves to make us whole. Even in this, your results in finding someone can only be as good as the effort you put into looking.

There are over 9 billion souls on this planet. The chances of not being able to get along with just one of them seem statistically ridiculous. The chance that one will fall on your lap if you don’t go out trying to meet them are also statistically ridiculous.

So if I was given a soap box to lecture on here’s what I’d say:

Pro Tip 1: You need to be a whole person before you go trying someone else on. If you think you need someone to complete you, fix you, or heal you, you’re probably doomed to disappointment. Only you can do those things. A partner is meant to provide balance/support, not life-sustaining mana.

Pro Tip 2: Ask. People. Out. Learn to accept rejection without taking it personally. I don’t care what gender you are either. You know those geeky characters like Howard from the Big Bang Theory, who try and fail so many times trying to flirt/pick someone up? Guess what they get right - they keep trying. As the motivational poster goes, “100% of the shots you don’t take don’t go in.”

Pro Tip 3: Relationships are meant to have disagreements. Your partner is not a picture perfect doormat ready to bow to your whims; they’re another intelligent, unique individual raised differently than you with different quirks, dislikes, vices, and pet peeves. The same goes for you. Learn to compromise and stop looking for “perfect” - instead, try looking for “persistent” and possibly “patient” as these hold up better over time.

These are just the rantings of a “lucky” old married soul, though. Take or leave them as you will.

But if you ever come around me and my spouse muttering the words “lucky”, just know that we have spent ten years as verbal sparring partners - and you have very little chance to survive us when we tag team.

breath in that aroma,

MMMM

that indistinguishable smell

the machine is doing its job,

flowing the steaming

water over the

grounds.

MMMM

smell that smell.

Wake up, sunshine

good morning

coffee is ready and waiting

What’s your flavor?

The smell of coffee is

delightful.

Pour that steaming hot coffee

in your favorite mug

add cream and sugar or just keep it black.

Either way,

the warm cup feels nice in my hands.

That’s a fact

It’s a great way to

start my day.

with a

Warm Coffee Cup in my Hand

sip, savor, sway

Athena

09/10/2020

I wish words would not elude me,

I can only yearn that they paint

What is at the roots of my heart

~I'm hopeless~

Shoveling up profound descriptions

To satisfy my amazement

Wanting to pin words

To her existence

To describe what I gaze upon

Cause I simply cannot comprehend

Why she is so beautiful

Trauma should have tainted her skin

It should have damaged her soul

It should have broken her into pieces

~~~

But, in her blue eyes, I see strength

Crystal blue waves, rushing into my soul

When she stares at me

And her tears fall

It's beauty and heartbreak wrapped into one

I quiver and want nothing more

Than her soft warm embrace

~~~

Her voice saturates me

A sweet comforting song

Filling me to relaxation

Her pale skin, soft as cotton

Smooth and silky

Drawing me in to love's sleep

And I can't resist

~~~

She has a moonlight personality

Bright, but soft

Quiet yet powerful

And I'm stuck in harmony

Ever since I fell into this addiction

Of her

~~~

Some say cliche

But what is to be expected, when the English language through it's boundaries, confines my ability to describe her beauty. She exists beyond any depth of measurement, whether by word or number.

I’ll admit I

found charm in the way

you ignored my calls

went away with

other girls

treated your friends like a

priority and

me like a last resort

I romanticized the way

You talked about my body

like it was all there ever was

to me

As if I was an empty present

a means to an end

a carousel you could

hop on

and off when it got you dizzy

I

romanticized the way

you seemed to only care

when you needed me

He can’t live without me

I thought

and thought

and thought

again and again

except you did live,

didn’t you?

without me.

You only needed me

when you couldn’t live

by yourself.

At first glance. My heart skips a beat.

And I’m left breathless. I know I can’t take a second look until I catch my breath. But I’m feeling reckless.

Foolish I capture no image other than the sky’s. As I fall back unconscious. Did she shout?

If I manage to live thru this. She could claim to have knocked me out.

I heard a loud wack. As my neck is redirected and whiplashed into a second skull crushing smack on the pavement.

After which I guess I napped. I have no recollection of recovering in the sirens lap.

Each new speck of stinging light bites!

Bringing me more and more lucid despite.

My obvious dislike of daylight.

I retreat towards the shadows and heat. Pressing up to the warmth with my cheek. Unaware of the sight for sore eyes caring for me. The Kryptonite making my knees week.

Knock knock. The knot on my noggin grows. Everything I hear sounds and feels abusive. So it’s got me curling my toes.

Now before me I find? Who knows I’ve got no control of my senses to mind them. I’m getting nothing but a dial tone. Trying to check in on myself. My hang ups don’t define me. Where might I be?

I fall back into my dreams. Chasing a peace elusive. But a single heartbeat sounds off deep about soul. And I found that intrusive.

Though it’s also conducive with spurring ones curiosities. Inducing thoughts and feelings of wonderment. Which sends me searching my imagination. For what might be found around the next untouched corner.

When she spoke I woke and was astounded. Compounding my bewilderment? A clear vision of. That from which like it’s heat I to have risen.

“What am I missing? Who do I owe apologies? Beg forgiveness from on my knees?”

She cuts in “At ease” silencing me.

Holding me closely while whispering guarantees of no underlying animosity.

I cling to her legs. Not unlike twin towering trees. Making note of every color and shade that comes to mind. Floating in and out of lucidity. With each autumn breeze. As it kicks up skirts and leaves. I agree it’s time to part ways with this daydream but...:

I can’t make the leap. I’ve no legs underneath me. And figure the learning curves to steep. It’s these excuses again plaguing me. I think to scream pinch me.

Which did she?

I guess I’ll reap what I sow later. And use this free time to get so more sleep. I’m beat. Maybe sometime outside of a dream we’ll actually meet. When I’m, if I’m ever back on my feet.

I fear the cold won’t be long now. Still not flatlining though. Who else hears heart beats down deep? Again stemming from a source of heat that’s fading fast. Like my recollection of her visage. That was vague from the start. On second thought that’s how this all got started.

“Wake up sally I guess I got something to say to you”

I’ve already imagined her a million different ways. Each more sensational than the next. I don’t even know her name or number. Why would she ever see me as fit to text?

I’ve inked her into history. If only my own though that may have been. The extent to which her legend grows is no longer only up to me. But any who lay eyes on her story now as well. Just gather your breath first. Is the only advice I’ve to offer any peepers on prose.

Kousuke-chan you drive my hands

Deep into my bank account

Everything with your face on it

has to be mine

Your lips after smoking make me run to you

So cool, so regal, yet you lack control

In this life

You'll need someone like me

Calm and collected

I'll accompany you

Look me in the eyes

Tell me you need me

I'll be your light

Your wrongs shall become my rights

My weakness shall become your strengths

Those cold lonely nights

Shall fade into nothingness

Let me be your midnight love

When you need some love

I know I'll be the last one

When you're on your knees

I know you'll avoid asking for help

I hope that the right time arrives

For my warm gentle hands to shelter you

I don't fear you

I couldn't ever hate you

I want you closer and closer

Come to life

Let me be your midnight love

Your skin is ragged and clumpy, but I run my fingers along your arm anyway. I can't ignore the tingles surging up my fingertips if it's from delicious disgust or desire I'm not sure. I love the unsmoothness, my fingers bumping up and down until a wet patch catches my finger, the texture is of unwashed cloth, sticky and oily. I hover in this chunky spot, caressing it softly. I wish to rub my whole body against this lovely texture but I fear smudging the puke colored patch of your protein shake texture skin. But I just continue to stroke the singular spot that has drawn my attention, oh how I wish you could speak. I wish I could smell your rank breath and breath in your musky body odor. I wish to trade insults and spiteful comments. But for now, I shall settle for sleeping a few feet away, where I can still able to smell your sharp heady scent (it is rather yummily repulsive), my dear dear landscape.

(If you can't tell, it's a wet landscape painting) -Ali :)

A green beer bottle sizzling on the road,

as if just broken.

Or maybe it was the porch lights of the houses

that were sizzling.

Or maybe it was the newly-parked cars—warm

under the porch lights.

We all know it was the power lines sizzling

above my head.

So what’s the harm in saying it was the stars

dotted through the sky.

My eye caught the glimmer – there! It shone in your hairbrush, twined about the bristles like moonlight in the reeds. Trembling I reach for it, my eyes misty as I carefully unwind it; it’s longer than I remember your hair being. I wrap the strand around my finger, again and again and then secure the tiny bundle with a knot. Clutching it to my heart, I inspect the brush for more treasures, but alas! This bit of you is all that was left.