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.
… And yet I love to hear you sing because when your voice rings through the air, your honest soul reverberates and the strength of your heart resonates and I can’t help but look into those green eyes and feel the clarity of a light beam through the foliage in a tropical rainforest.
I guess I’ll write to see if I can evoke the thoughts within my heavy head and chest. I guess I’ll see if the world isn’t too dark to face in this tired state of mind. My love is heavy and my eyes are hot and damn it’s hard when the past is dredged up. It’s one of those moments where everything triggers and I just want to move to Portugal. But fuck I learned to love and now I’m scared of what is coming around. I don’t really pray but if I did I’d ask for another day, another dollar but only if I keep the same lover and if he’d know what it’s like to be sad that it wouldn’t be penetrating deep like it does to my core. Will tomorrow be a Brand New day that I can face as I open my windows to let in the sky and a mosquito or too? I guess I’d pray for forgiveness for all of the times that I wasn’t enough and that I decided to give up instead of move onwards into the day that tomorrow could be. It’s a pandemic, really, the way things end up with slight infection catching on and infesting the tendrils leading to the veins coming out of your heart (is that right?). It hurts me to hurt you but fuck am I sad sitting on my bathroom floor under the burning water. Maybe I’ll feel something.
I have loved you without thought of what would come and where we would arrive after all of these years. I remember missing you when you were away and again when it was my turn to leave. I waited for you without knowing that one day you would return and we would seek one another out on the darkest of nights and the longest of days. Now we spend hours cuddled up on ruffled bedsheets and we spend moments on adventures ranging from breathing moments to capturing memories in pixels and thoughts. I am grateful to be able to hold you and to look at your light eyes scanning my soul. I have never wanted such strong hands running their fingers through my hair the way I crave yours. I will write you a thousand love letters with my intentions and you will take me in for who I am and I will lie next to you and thank the heavens for your company.
Sweetheart, I’m tired. It feels as if I can only go down under from here. So take me to these depths and lay me down to rest so that maybe soon enough I’ll grow again. I hope my soul returns in leaves and hearty stems leading into blooms. Just don’t be shocked if I leave soon.
Don’t think of me as a sad memory, but see me on the days I danced gleefully. Laugh of joy in my memory and pray to the flowers in my place. These things you can’t escape, you can only embrace.
There are days that I wish I could take back what I easily gave as pieces of my being chipped away in the dark room with our photographs with your arms around my chest and your teeth sinking into my neck. If ever faced with that decision, I would choose those days again when we’d make magic in dark spaces underneath the full blood moon. So for now I’ll say I’m sorry, for choosing incorrectly back when given the chance.
I did my best to remind her to run forward without looking back lest tribulations would sneak up on her in the form of lifted roots—in a forest of experience I have stumbled before. I looked into her eyes as she picked herself up and gave her all the strength I could muster. “You be smart not to fall again,” I told her as I held her pretty face in my hands as she nodded. Then came a cliff against the waters, we grasped hands and smiled—being together is all that mattered.
Those looking in through clear glass windows find a scene of joy and peace But their eyes can’t look through timelines of pain, sadness, and grief. So, as I step on the porch to pick up all that corresponds, They see a smiling girl between green palm fronds Ignorant to the tribulations that led her there.
In one moment, I caught their eye staring with envy And felt sad once again from memories within, trembling. Instead I tried to open my heart and let the floodgates spill And out of me and into them rose a chill For my eyes told a story that they could not bear.