Drink and Things

You had your drink and I had my things and together it made for turmoil. I was so tired and you full of desire that there was little left to show. Some god must have known how to have thrown in the towel as we sat patiently waiting. Then life caught up and anger welled as we were fraught with tension.

There were little things to hate here and there, yet nothing could equate to the frustrating fares of this life. I only remember hating the drinks and you being done with my things until the next morning.

Acrimony

I just didn’t mind the aching muscles and tired temples right before the dawn. I wanted to explore new territory and to challenge myself and those around me to be a little nicer. Then extraneous variables somehow seeped into the mix and turned a yellow morning into a cloudy, yet boiling afternoon. I wanted to stand up for myself then—stand on a mountain and let my voice echo my truths and experiences in dealing with angry faces and curdled lips because their voices were acrid and their chests were a graveyard of worms because even they could not get nutrition from that rancor. Who knows? Perhaps I still will let my words crash into their ears like heavy waves against the cliffs, deafening all else.

Islands in the Distance

The only thing that anchors me to small islands is the pleasure of the waves. In fact, it’s often easy to swim offshore until the ripples of the water lure me back to land, but small islands don’t fill large souls and they are insufficient and emptying. I have always been a creature of the water—free flowing and cool to the touch. With each passing day, I’m more at ease as I swim out a little farther each time. Soon small islands will fade into the horizon and I will swim to new shores or perhaps I’ll reach depths previously untraveled and will dwell in its hypnotic embrace.









Let Go, You’ll Be Better

Release, breathe it all out. Let the impurities flow out of your soul and let the wind erode them out or existence. Let go of that precarious ledge you have held on to; a pool of water awaits you. All is well. All will be well when you break the surface.

Laughter

Repetition leads to desensitization. It’s interesting how after some time you just don’t expect anything different and there’s only emptiness remaining. Thank goodness for evolutionary tactics. My favorite part in all of this is when all is uncovered by light.

The Dark Side of the Moon

Everything is heightened as if this cold front brought things into perspective. There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach when in the past there would be exhilaration, perhaps it’s all the pills getting me down and interacting in some way that deviates from the norm like a statistical significance. There is the dark and there is the light and sometimes one takes over the other as if to give the other the rest it requires to return more strongly. There can’t be much like whittling away the pieces layers to leave space for the art underneath created by steady hands. At times all is not well and she will be difficult. Terse words should be enough to express the extent of the depths within. Maybe I’m less patient because I don’t feel well and I’m a bit unhealthy or maybe it’s because I’m tired of being the repetitive waves crashing against the shore to soak tiny pieces of sand created artificially. Be dark, unflinching, tense, and done if you need to be. She will be.