Something from recent days

It’s summer. Broken flowers and blankets. Sunshine and books. Spreading, always. Through the trees, she swirls like smoke, thin as air. Everything’s hazy. The gaze, of no tomorrows. I lay in the bath. The chill of autumn, creeping slowly. The back of my aching throat, my aching bones. They call me bone daddy. Over the water, through the mist of early mornings. You stand there, cigarette in hand. You watch as she levitates. Corn. Amber and burnt leaves. Some kind of harbor, ripples in the water. Through open windows, the freeway at night. Forever neon. The nothingness of pleasure, of feeling alive. She peels back her flesh. A mess of wonder, you place your hands upon her hips. Above the trees, around the rim of chalk, there’s only dreams. This isn’t today. It never is. A balcony, some kind of piano. Sluts dancing, but you’re just bored. They grin as they pass you, wanting to catch you. They shake and they break, but you’d rather just walk in the woods. There’s nothing worse, than to live a lie. There’s nothing worse, than to paint a picture that isn’t true. Through a maze of luscious green, there’s a Minotaur. There’s a day in July, when everything’s hot. It boils. The sun and sea, dissolving. All those words you want to get out. All the magic that dances within, that no one seems to understand. Beneath my empty stare, everything is in a state of rapture. Past, present and future. Make-believe and real. Ghosts and imaginary friends. The taste of love, the shadows of loss. It’s like being drunk, but infinitely better. It’s like dreaming, but realer. A thousands stars in her hand, a million upon her belly. Swans and drawings, of me. Bedsheets and origin. Nature, ocean. Womb river, mother. To fuck, and blah blah. The days grow weary, the candle burns, out. Closing my eyes, I see, all I need to see. Eyes of autumn, autumn, eyes. A forest, where everything grows. A girl now a woman. Snowflakes and frozen water, upon her, white, teeth.

Categories: Future Past

11 replies »

  1. Thank you, for all you write and everything you say. You will never understand how you have helped me. I was in a very dark place and your words helped me. Thank you. -Arizona-

    • I’m so touched by your words. It means a lot to me that they have helped you. And for you to comment on this piece, the very first one.. I remember I was in a terrible place at the time, and writing seemed to be the only thing that helped ease the pain. In many ways it still is. But things get better. If we keep going, they always get better x

      • I have been in a terrible place here lately when an angel of a friend showed me Word Press, I randomly came across your account and have been reading all of your pieces. I have fallen in love with your views on these topics. Your views on life in general have me amazed and in awe. I love your pieces all in all. Keep doing the things you do! xoxoxoxo

      • Well I’m glad we found each other in this strange, old world. Such a tiny miracle, and one that is welcomed so heartily. I shall try and keep the words coming. As long as we keep being what we want to be, then everything else will follow xo

      • My background is painting, so I see my writing trying to achieve the same thing. Painting with words; wanting to express myself in as many different ways as possible. Writing is pretty much my life, and as such, I pour everything into it. I don’t think you should ever hold back- even if what you write paints you in a less than heavenly light x

      • I started drawing and painting at a young age. I would sit on the family farm and sketch the horses in the pasture for hours. I also learned to play the guitar and piano around the age of 8 and would play in festivals. People would be so encouraging yet so cruel in their opinions of my voice and taste. I want to be able to channel every aspect of criticism into my writing. Reading your writing has broadened my views on the topics I shall write on. x

      • It sounds as though you are on quite some journey. People who are cruel with their opinions lack creation, and as such should be ignored, but they can be good to add fuel to the fire. I hope you keep performing and writing. You have the gift of awareness, and that’s what so many are lacking. They think they see, but they only see what they want to. I’d like to think we see what’s really out there x

      • I like to think that there are few people who really see this cruel world for what it really is. People pull wool over their eyes to hide their selves from what is truly out there. They would rather hide from love so they do not have to experience heart ache instead of having the pleasure of love and friendship and heart break and heart ache and hurt. I would rather hurt every day over someone I once loved and now have lost instead of never loving anyone and not hurting because even though I may be hurting on the daily at least I would feel the emotion of love. Thank you for showing me I am not the only one in this universe that truly knows what it feels like to not the future, for not acting like everything is perfect and that I am happy all the time. The fact is that I am the exact opposite. This world has gone to hell and I hate it. I want the old days with romance and true love and actual happiness for your neighbor, not someone who is trying to stab you in the back as soon as you shut the door.

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