you're a good guy, I know.

it's evident in the way you smile.

a gentleman in your suit and tie,

but you can put me on trial.

I'll swear to the judge and jury,

all the sins that drip from my lips,

but I'll keep my favorite secrets,

like the evidence of your fingers on my hips.

They love you as a gentleman,

but I have loved you as so much more.

I'll wait for the light to finally shift,

Do they know what you've used that halo for?

but I've seen it, in the flashes,

dark flames creeping at your eyes-

rising when you steal glances at me.

in them, a devil in an angel's guise.

Those perfect blue eyes turn to ice,

drowning in your whiskey at night.

When you see me do you dream

how we must feel, late at night?

For a moment, do you imagine,

your hands tangled in my hair,

as I softly kiss every curve of your throat.

every sound falls like a prayer.

Do you imagine your restraint

tossed in the corner, next to your shirt?

What about my fingers wrapped around yours,

as I brush away all your hurt?

I would pour over every inch of you,

to hear your wildest desires.

and if desperation falls at our doorstep,

do we do the things it requires?

Sometimes, I swear I can feel your hand,

tracing the top of the slit in my dress.

and the higher and deeper you go,

the more I have to confess.

god, maybe you're just as dark as me,

and in each other, we find rays of sacred daylight.

One look and I already feel your hands in my hair,

oh, but you're a gentleman... right?

Right now I love you like a best friend

like movie nights and coffee

ranting about work and only seeing each other on weekends

I love you like a best friend

we don't spell it out

it's love ya's

and ily's

and luv

not

I love you.

but I think it would be easy to love you

to slip into the idea of more than friends

to being my first phone call every time

to thinking about you at night

to holding hands

to saying I love you

all the way through.

I come alive

just to internally die.

Rising high enough

that the fall will be fatal.

Climbing tirelessly

just to give up.

A spark of joy

extinguished

before it becomes a flame.

I rise again,

meeting the same fate.

An endless cycle

as I slowly fade away.

I hate that so many people today think they're automatically absolved from all wrongdoing simply because it's in their nature to be an asshat, as if their primal desires and their conscious choices are inseparable and inevitable, thereby predictable and immediately forgiven. Then, somehow, it's your fault for having done exactly what you should have done, always being faithful to your heart. You're left standing there, naked, wondering if it was the asshat's primal desire which tore the dream apart, or if you were the object of that primal desire and the only one dreaming was you.

Be done with it. Naive may be the perfect word to describe you, but it describes someone who takes chances, strives for greatness, lives generously, loves passionately, and feels deeply. The word on the other side of the coin, however, is not yours to bear. It's the word, Oblivious, reserved for said asshat. It describes someone shallow, counterfeit, and incapable of recognizing what's standing right in front of them.

Some people put women on a pedestal, some put men on a pedestal, some put the relationship on a pedestal. All are doomed as time chips away at the base. Sometimes wisdom and insanity go hand-in-hand, and all you need is a voice of experience confirming that you've made the right choices along the way. So long as you believe them to have been your best choices, although weighted by circumstances, then they are valid regardless of any hypocrisy or even inaccuracy. You did your best, even if you weren't at your best.

Yes, it hurts. Even harder than losing someone who never returned your love is losing the time you spent seeking something that wasn't there. In truth, you held on longer than you should have, pretended too long, swept too much under the rug, swallowed too much pride, made too many excuses--all acts of desperation in order to avoid saying goodbye--but the damage was already done. That brilliant imagination that convinced you that this was the one, is now telling you that you could've done something different, something better--that it was your fault. Stop and think. If you're thinking of how you could have better (or sooner) addressed the damage, that's good. That's wisdom at work. If you're thinking of more clever acts of desperation--more excuses, another lens to filter out the ugly, un-swallowed pride--that's not good. Nothing good comes of that.

Perception is a tainted lens filtering out what others see plainly without the rose-colored glasses lovers wear. They always see the truth long before you do. Eventually, you'll be one of them--one of us--no longer susceptible to your own need to alter reality--to redefine the ugly, to soften the rough edges, to give credit where no credit is due. That word is Jaded. It may feel like a cynical place to be, but it's powerful, tempered, wise. It doesn't turn away from love, it filters out the crap which love is not--the asshats. The flip side of that coin is Honesty. It's the only thing that can win a jaded heart, and leave the abyss behind--nothing more than a memory.

I forget simple things, like don’t get involved with involved women.

Goddammit, temptation isn't to be resisted; it's candy in a shiny wrapper.

So I unwrapped her.

Yeah, she had a sob story; he beat her and drank all the time. I nodded and smiled and kissed her.

She reminded me of strawberry candies, the hard ones with yummy in the middle.

Of course she told him.

Pretty sure that was her plan all along.

He paid me a visit.

I remembered to aim small.

I forget things, like my work gloves.

This fucking shovel really chews up my hands.

As we all are, I am on a journey, that is my life. Some days I feel really good and other days I do not. Today is an "I feel really good day". I am turning 60 soon, and I am constantly learning more and more about myself.

I am learning to understand that some of my "negative qualities", which are part of me, have very positive effects that have helped me in many experiences in my life. That knowledge brings me to today's "I feel really good today" day.

I "feel really good today", because I am loving my job again. I recognize that I have been very successful in my life. I realize that anything I set my mind to, I can achieve. I understand that my my personality and my qualities have allowed me to successfully make things happen. Although I have endured very difficult times and dark days in my life, my strength and tenacity has directed my journey, thus allowing me to persevere through them, and come to an understanding and the courage to move on.

I "feel really good today", because have a wonderful family and great and loyal friends. I am fortunate that the people in my life are so supportive, understanding, and always encouraging. I am so lucky to have shared the best times of my life with these extraordinary people. I know very well that I could not travel through the journey of my life without my family and friends, and I thank God for them.

Although life has its ups and downs, right now I'm in an "up" phase. I am riding that wave and relishing it, since we all know that life can throw out a curve ball and change my journey on a dime. For today, I feel really good today!

I stare at my life as if down the barrel of a loaded gun. I'm asked, do you want kids? And I stare blankly at them, picking at the nail cuticle I've been nursing, with it bleeding, for two straight weeks, the longest commitment I've ever made to something on my body. A pregnancy, they ask. Do you want to get pregnant? I go back to my nails, my denial, my entire upbringing, and decide a nail file is too much effort.

My psychiatrist said that I'd have to go off my meds. What, so like, go apeshit? Give up my sanity for something that might not even make me happy? I go to a map of the universe and ask, in what galaxy does that occur in?

I'm in my early thirties. I didn't think I'd make it this far. I had letters written to my close family and friends years ago, the ones I'd send to them when I decided to die. I go on rants. I ask, why on earth would I bring any living thing into this world? For what? So we can all suffer together, quietly, writing suicide notes on our phones? I go back to the map of the universe and ask: point to where it matters, where I'm given permission to pass that suffering on to someone else?

I ask nothing of the universe, except to offer it little prayers. I offer it little prayers in traffic, I offer it little prayers when I see children get shot on the news, which, if you've been watching, is basically every day. I ask myself: is this what I want for a child? And the answer, since the day I wrote my last dying notes on my phone to now, is: no.

This is bleak. This is very, very bleak. I ask myself: if the universe wanted me to bring life into this world, it would let me know. And then my nail cuticle bleeds, and I go back to picking at it, and to the world where I am neither comfortable, nor sad, just here. Drawing blood where they could be life, where there could be something more.

all these years

of being alive,

and i am struggling to put something

to words, to express

whatever this

ache is. an untranslatable language,

who will understand?

all these years

to push it through

the pores of my

fingertips or

between my breathing.

i am tired,

so tired.

...ugh to feel,

and not just

be mopping

the floor

on pins

and needles

of a looping

circulation

...ugh to feel

the momentum,

and the turbulence

as passed,

the whirl of

tomorrows,

and not just

the empty horror

of a self gone

numbed

That's on the inside

but ahh

on the reverse

I am soft and

scented

like from a

tropical

hot spring and

waterfall

fresh from

the shower..

Or I will be.

...ugh!

05.15.2023

How do I feel challenge @blackgirlwritin