guest post #2 - [apple]crumble.

Her dad had been sick for a while. It seemed like a long while. Was it only for the past five months that she had been travelling to see him three times a week? But those 20 hours a week seemed such a big commitment – packing up lunches and the kids and arranging for dinner when she was away from home. For a while she had felt trapped. Why couldn’t they just put him in a nursing home and have them take care of him? Why did her mother want him to be cared for at home? That meant rearranging life.

This time when she visited and asked him how he was doing, he told her a story. She could see by his earnestness that it was important to him. He really wanted to tell her about what he had done earlier in the week.

“I went to see the doctor.”

“How did that go?”

“There was water.”

“What water, where?”

“Outside.”

“Oh, a lake?”

“And animals.”

“What animals were they?”

“They were…..there. They were by the water. They were in a group. They…”

“Were they geese?”

“They were together..”

“Were they ducks?”

“They were...”

He stumbled for the right words. He had never had this kind of difficulty telling a story before. He was frustrated…It bothered him that he couldn’t tell her what he had seen.

She was puzzled…and sad. She had known he wasn’t doing well. Perhaps for the first time, she wondered for how much longer he would be with her.

She tried to pick a new topic; something that they could talk about without him feeling bad.

“Dad, it’s Valentine’s Day today. I baked some brownies that I brought over to share. The girls helped me make them.”

He nodded, not comforted really. He knew something still wasn’t right and he remembered he couldn’t speak what was on his mind.

She knew, too. They sat together and watched TV.

An hour passed…or was it two? It was time for her to get ready to go…but wasn’t there some way she could connect before she left?

“I love you, Dad.” She couldn’t remember saying that to him before.

He paused, looked up and said, “I love you too.” She didn’t remember hearing those words before.



After all, it was Valentine’s Day.

                        - Equinox

unused.

      Angels, angels and demons.  They mock me.  I am the in-between, the unused, the neglected, like torn fringe on a petticoat.  But they do use me.  I am the secret hiding place.  For meetings in the dark, for lovers in their shameful visits with... They use me.  Imperfection after imperfection I harbor.

      This is well.  I am imperfection.  We will blend

well.  Together we make up a constant denial of the ideal, the perfection.  We loathe it.  We loathe the mediums of glamour and brightly shining, shining, shining...... perfection.  Get it away from us.  Burn.  

Quietly.

      Anger?  We have it not.  Guilt?  We have it not.  We do not live in this place.  We are this place, and the imperfection permeates it, but not us.  I.  Burn.

Us.

      Mercy, let us drink.

vial.

The vial in her palm glitters like a gem when the light hits it. Beautiful. One drop and he's gone forever, never to hurt her again, his words cutting deep into her heart. One step and she's at his door, at his unsuspecting side. One moment and revenge is in her grasp. Revenge for her baby girl.

Footsteps, soft and padding down the hallway, coming closer. Her fingers close tight over her secret.

"Mommy?" The little boy looks up at her, his big gray eyes filled with tears. "Mommy, I falled over the kitty." He holds up his pudgy hand, marked by a tiny red scratch.

She bends down and gives him the kiss he wants to make it better.

"Why you in front of Uncle Eddie's door, Mommy?"

"Nothing, love," she says, dropping the vial into her pocket and picking him up. "Nothing."

Worthless, the voice in her head tells her, worthless and cowardly just like he always said. Good for nothing, beggar girl, seductress, liar... he was right about you. Right about Leah. You're no better than him - about to be a murderer.

"No," she says, the word leaving her lips without her meaning them to. As they pass the window, she reaches into her pocket and tosses the vial into the night.

"Why?" says the gray-eyed child. "Why no?"

"Because we're going to prove him wrong."There is a determination in her voice she didn't know she possessed.

"We is!" says the boy. "We is a win, Mommy!"

wishes of a lifetime.

      Spin me round again
and close my eyes.  Will it be today that I find the tongues to speak
   to you
      perfection
and imperfection.

      Wedding rings
kindling in the raging fire.  Are we one of the rotten ones
   with
      no end
in sight or hearing.

      Just say
goodnight and go.  I can't believe the paltry
   excuses
      you give
actually convince me.

      Hypothetically
the clock ticks.  But this insensitivity you and they
   show me
      takes
too much real time.

      Dead
we are.                                                                                  heaven
 

song of the dead.

your black tears 

will drown out

the cold sun

this world will never

end until you have 

died with it

the air is thick with our dark desires

smothering my voice.  please

have done

forget me in my wrong

too late i said the right 

thing, left too late

the glass splinters

the winds fade

we have stopped

-eciate.

      Some people will disturb the peace of every day, their opinions tearing holes in my heart intentionally and unintentionally.  Their opinions will relish my vulnerability.  They will sink in their bloody teeth eagerly, ravenously.  And they will be right to do so.  Because I know they are right.

      Some people will hurt me more than others, their words doing so much, meaning so little.  It doesn't sound the same to me, the way it does to you when you write it to me.  You meant well, but perhaps I see it as a path to bloody my own nose.

      I am a wounded animal.  I splash water in the fresh cuts so it stings.  Stings me.  Hurts me.

            I am words.  I will break you.

      It's all about me.  My pain, my unhappiness.  Listen to me.  Jeer at me.

            Throw your tomato juice at me.

I am your Consciousness.

trauma – 1.3

When she woke up, she saw the sun glistening through the window. She felt sore, but well-rested. Where was she, though, she wondered.

A nurse in flower-print scrubs pushed aside the curtain that surrounded her bed. “Good morning, sunshine! How are you feeling, Natalie?”

Natalie gave a crooked smile. “I guess I’m okay. I survived,” she added hopefully.

“Is there anything I can get for you? There’s someone waiting to see you.”

Perplexed, she paused to think. “Is it Tyler?”

“Yes, believe that’s the gentleman’s name. I’ll send him in when you’re ready.”

Not five minutes later, Tyler was seated by her bed in one of the uncomfortable-looking visitor chairs. He witnessed a bandaged face with a bright smile beneath it, but also an exhausted body that lay immobile on the bed.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.”

“There’s something I want to tell you, Tyler. I originally asked you to come because I didn’t know if I was going to get through. You know, live. But now that I know I’ve still got some time, I really want my life to have meaning. Time lost is never found. Use today as if it was you’re last.”

unstable.

oh 
i am drawn to you
dancing around you
yes your algae friends, i will join them
sitting on your windowsill
i'll give you things
that you can't give yourself

but but but
so fragile
both of us

It's wrong to justify yourself through your goodness, to call yourself safe and sure because you're selfless. Nope, I am not safe or sure, no matter what I do.

I need some help, maker of ocean and sky. I want a force field to protect me, and of course I am impatient to learn what is wisdom, how to care for the unstable without being swirled in and felled. I don't know who to trust to tell me. I still think my doubt knows more than anyone's knowledge.

I once heard someone say that to hold back from loving, in fear, is actually more risky than to risk.
Still: love isn't as simple as discarding the stability others' love has cloaked me with.


oh, i am drawn to you {and is it righteous or warped?}
dancing around you yes your algae friends, i will join them {hopefully}
sitting on your windowsill i'll give you things {sheathed there by faith unless He moves me}
that you can't give yourself {what only He can}

seconds.

Dreams, made to last.
Can we, human,
Invuln'rable
To time and cracks
Morphine and snacks
Snarks and grapefruit
Rage and Entmoot
Tears and whirlpool
Midnight and Kool
- Aid

Be?

goodbye for now.

A breath is all
we are.  Perhaps
tomorrow today
yesterday we too
shall fade away.

A life too brief
to us.  Unless
in time before time
of time our Lord
ordained it all.

A sigh so deep -
our grief.  But still
though weary down
depressed the rain
turns into snow.

in Memoriam
Graham Stevens (1994-2013)