Blank Page

Hello white screen.

I’m here to stare at you again.

I have hopes that your magic powers of illumination will draw the Words from my brain.

Pulling them from the core of me, as my eyes stare beyond you into Universes still unknown to the world.

Yet you sit there.  Empty.

You are the one with greater power, scaring my ideas away.

Intimidating me, with your flashy white teeth, the ink wont bleed and discolor your face.

Perhaps we need to chat about my pursuits.

You see, I am trying to write a story.

As you flash the cursor line at me, blinking anxiously as my fingers wait to patter away at the keys…..

This is nonsense.  I should be greater than you!  I can slay you with that tiny little X at the top corner!  I can will you to go away!

……however, this causes me more problems than it does you.  You will smile one last time with a wicked laugh as you flash away victorious.

How do we meld our minds so that we might summon the words peacefully?  Drawing from my inner pool of creation as one might a fountain?

Blank page, I think of you all the day long.  I think of the words I might put to you.  The stories I anxiously wish to tell…..

And yet you remain.  Here.  Untouched.

Intimacy we should share!  My heart would overflow to you in a precarious romance, in which I slaughter my soul at the eyes of the world.

Summon from me words.  I beg you.

Draw each of them out.  Rend my soul if you must.  Just let them flow.

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Caught Daydreaming II

A skip in my chest.  Warmth spreads from the center, tendrils flowing toward my shoulders.

My arms curl around myself in reaction.  I sigh, closing my eyes, and suddenly you are there with me.

A hand flows with my hair, drawing gently on my neck to bring me into you.  I feel your face to my cheek.  Your lips gently press into my shoulder, and a shiver spreads behind my ear down to my back.

The fan swirls air about me.  The tease takes me back to dreaming.

Dreaming of happiness.  Dreaming of adventures.

Dreaming of sitting next to you as I sit and write.  To feel your shoulder against mine.

To hear your breath, a sniff, to watch you create worlds of your own as I create mine.

To taste your flesh.  To feel your lips to mine.

Projecting you into my daily routine.  I get lost in the idea.  It causes me to stop.

It distracts me.  Suddenly my mind goes blank.  And when it does, it fills with you.

Caught Daydreaming

Our eyes meet through the glass.  My heart skips and tension constricts my throat.

Flustered I stand silently beside you, as though we are old friends and this is not the first we meet.

I wonder what you think, desiring to know everything filling your mind.

Nervous, awkward, I fish for words.  Irony, being a wordsmith with none on my tongue.

Desperately I wish to just stare at you.  Study you.  Take you in.  Memorize every detail as you sit across the table, before moving to my side.

Under scrutiny, I do not stare.  I hold my breath finding words for the first time -though, they do not flow as I might wish.

Amid the constant distraction, I am aware of warmth.  You are there beside me.  It is real.

Every little detail swirls in a fog of delightful memory.  Memories to recall forever.

A gentle guiding press, directing as we walk.  When we stop your eyes pierce my soul, sending electricity through my chest.  I have never known a “spark”.  Who knew they felt like lightning?

Is this how Imprinting should feel?  Searing into my chest forever the wondrous desire for you?

El Niño

A little boy emerged from the sea looking for his playmate.

Once he emerged, and the world welcomed him.

A second time, chaos ensued and the people scoffed.

They shook their fists at the sky, they threw their hands up in the air.  Some wept, others laughed.

Angry, the little boy confused their seasons, scattering the Winter in strange places.

Where piles should drift, there were none.

Where ice should be dripping, rain fell instead.

Frustrated the people continued to complain.

The little boy did not relent.

Meanwhile groundhogs everywhere laughed, playing with the boy as he ran through the fields and forests looking for his playmate.  Still she could not be found.

While Mother Nature slept her children were up to no good.

What Love is Abuse?

Which is better?

To be berated, blamed constantly for choices not your own?

To be neglected, questioning your worth?

Which is easier to overcome?

The mental anguish that riddles you with anxiety?

A twisted power play that rattles the cage you can’t escape from?

How delicate the balance that establishes our worth.

Tormented, forced to be reliant.  Dangling on broken strings!

Insufficient, forced to drown even when you were sitting still.

Who can allow such evils to exist in their brains, destroying the ones they love piece by piece?

Or is it love?  What IS love?

Anger at insufficiency, frustration at lack of progress, neither of these are love.

Berating and blame, neither of these are love.

Tearing down the worth of another, to mend your own inefficiencies, neither of these are love.

Abuses the world does not recognize as dangerous, these things kill even the strongest of people.  Their hands have not hit you, but their words will make your soul bleed 

Manipulation 

Such a sweet gift is memory!  It reminds us of our guilts.

The bloodstained hands, the torn up feet, eyes gouged out by our regrets.

Things we’ve done and songs we sung that brought us to these points.

How futile the attempts to erase the past.  Instead it swallows us whole.

Sifting through the broken strands of things we cannot hold in our grasp.

Pinpricks of light crack through the darkness where we hide our every sin.

And when the box needs a laugh, it kicks itself open spilling the contents out.

Topsy-turvy madness, confidences shattered, there is no end to this hell.

What a carnival is in my brain, enslaved by the Will of those surrounding.

How can I ever escape when I’ve been trained to depend on their every whim?

How frustrating to be enslaved to a mindset twisted and fashioned so well.

Every promise broken.  Every hope let down.  And yet I am helpless to save myself for I have become the perfect slave.

Flicker

Amidst the drowning there was a shore where light flashed with comfort.

Amidst the storm there was a whisper that helped to still the waves.

While chaos ensued there was a tether that helped ground sanity.

And while trapped within the frozen lake, footsteps resounded remaining a spark of hope.

Madness encumbered, trapped in the perfect cage.

Keyless entry, oh what a twist!  A prisoner to remain.

And why the Manipulator gets their way, and the prisoner does remain what frustrating puzzlement is this?

A beautiful trap awaited, the Fates are such a tease.

Forbidden fruit, what amazing bites, the taste being not for me.

Such sweet lies to fall into along the broken road tread, each one wrapped in their own disguise.  The scent is always the same.

Silly Pawn, the game is on!

Trusting illusions.  Trusting the disguise.

Alone in this frightful forest, Fate’s games I will slay on my own.