The Evolution of Me



There’s wind, and there’s rain, and at this particular moment in time, there’s a cigarette with your name on it as the hum of an air conditioning unit that sounds like a choir of junkies doing their best to belt out something by Sinatra roars somewhere below our feet. Taking notes in a small notepad, there’s a reflection of you I secretly watch while fantasising about biting your lips. The way you twist and turn. The way you skip between the streets along with all those ghosts I spent the best part of ten years trying to quieten with no success. And then along you came, and how you stirred up so much shit, but I’m glad you did. Yeah, I’m glad you did. There are empty rooms where our blurry outlines still frolic after all this time. There are voices that whisper to us through the open windows of our room that say the same things they did back when we were kids. Keep seeking. Keep seeing. Draw a door, and step right through it. Wade into the waters of a river you know so well and swim with the swans beneath the oily sky as if it were insane to be doing anything else. I see you in so many mirrors. I see you in so many windows and try as I might, there’s no escaping what you are. Step on my toes and suck my neck. Dig your nails into the palms of my hands and be my angel. Be my queen. Be gracious, be quick. This storm won’t last forever, and neither will we. There’s a wind that howls, and a TV screen that shows the birth of the universe. There’s a branch of a tree that scratches at the window, and sirens of a cop car to remind us we are never far from harm.

A Journal for Damned Lovers on

A Journal for Damned Lovers on

14 replies »

  1. I LOVE “the hum of an air conditioning unit that sounds like a choir of junkies doing their best to belt out something by Sinatra roars somewhere below our feet” Also love “There are empty rooms where our blurry outlines still frolick after all this time.”– such evocative imagery. Incredible writing as always SK

      • You actually make me wistful that I don’t have lost loves that I lament I tend to stay too long and feel relieved when things are finally over and I can breath. My romantic laments are more over things that almost-but-didn’t happen. Those people I had a spark with (one was a long memorable tortured unrequited love) but the timing was off. The what-ifs. Those I still sometimes take those out and look at. And of course, I wonder if my marriage will be the last love I will ever find in my life, which is kind of comforting but also sad at the same time.

      • I think it’s the what-ifs that drive us in so many ways that we can never understand, or want to own up to. To feel content in a relationship is priceless, and should never be taken for granted, but the dangerous desire that lurks in the shadows is so difficult to resist at times. It makes us feel alive in ways that contentment never can. Plus it helps us to create good art..

  2. The way you write, it’s like a double exposed photograph. The past image showing underneath the present. They make your words feel real in what is and what has been in your life. Such skill. And I’m glad you used the word queen. They are strong and so much better then princesses. 😉 x

    • Thank you, T. That’s a very eloquent description of the writing process. I like it very much. And thank you for such a kind comment. Knowing you enjoyed it gives me the confidence to write another, and for that I am more than grateful. And yes, queen over princess 😉 x

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