Tuesday, March 20, 2012


I twisted in my sheets, trying to escape the visions in my mind. He was there. It was lies and I knew it, but my dreamscape refused to allow reality any sway. So, he knocked on my door. He told me that he had been thinking about me. With a sincerity in his voice, that didn't match his dark eyes, he told me that he missed me. He begged me to let him in. To let him do something for me, anything at all...

Before I knew what was happening, he was fixing my toilet (nevermind that there wasn't a thing wrong with it during daylight hours). He slathered it with a pink goop, that faded back to white before my eyes. Like he had done nothing at all. And he hadn't. But I knew the damage was done. He had broken my spirit once again. 

I screamed at myself to be strong. I demanded that I throw him out before things took a different turn. And then he was kissing me. I couldn't push away. My soul didn't respond, but my body refused to make him stop. Silent tears that only I could feel were all I could muster, as my panties hit the floor. He remembered, took his way with the shell of me and stepped back into the old pattern of leaving the way that he had come.

But love sat on the swing in the front yard. There was no movement, but I knew it was there and finally refused to let history run away again. This time I had to find truth, even if it killed the only good thing in my life. I introduced the man in the swing, to the man with his hand on a car door, ready to disappear into the night. My words were the only thing that broke a tension tight enough to kill.

The swing swayed in the silent breeze left behind. No words were spoken, but I knew that I had lost. The only thing that I could do wrong had come to pass. My fear of everything and nothing was realized, as I stood alone on the doorstep again. Loss was the only partner that I deserved. 

The morning sun burned away the fog, but the dream stayed with me. Loss, my familiar partner, deceiver and liar extraordinaire had won again. Was this a warning, an accusation of spirit or a guilt-induced escape to safer climes? My ravaged garden didn't know the answer, but offered solace in its rebirth. And warm arms that gently turned me around to spill into limitless eyes absorbed the tears that finally fell. The dream was not my reality. This was...


Related Posts with Thumbnails