Write it out!

This weekend is new and scary and exciting. And I will explain more next week! I've always loved to write. But especially in the past 19 months, I've developed a deep love for writing about all sorts of different concepts. I finally understand what Anna said when she told me she pretends to write from other people's perspectives. Because my own life just isn't enough I guess! Anyways, my train ride to Rostock inspired some writing to take place. I'm contemplating putting together a compilation of my stories and making a book! The first three are from today and the others are from the past few months. And there are yet older ones on facebook. 

Weakling

Little skeleton branch, why do you perch on that solid trunk? Does your pride keep you clinging or is it that voice in the wind stirring you to strain for strength? You are not strong, you know. It seems that one stormy night would break you off and snap you into miniscule, insignificant fragments. I want to tell you that you're a fool and that you aim too high. But somehow there is beauty in your frailty. The trunk holds you firm and you've placed yourself in it's sturdy foundation. And in that beautiful frailty I see a sort of strength. And I long for it. I look much better than you and much stronger and I seem secure through every storm, but I am dying and you are living. The storms wear me down and weaken me. But you? They only seem to strengthen your little skeleton self. I want to have strength, but only for myself and from myself. The view of you on that trunk is distant to me now as I carve my own way through the wind and sleet. I can't give up my precious mirage of strength that clothes me so securely. You are naked and ugly and you are weak and frail. But you are living and I am dying. What you found I cannot find a way to want. The only thing I do want is to want it. You've found rest and a peculiar beauty and a tender strength. And I will continue growing in my own strength, stronger and stronger until I die. And I am dying and you are living.

To Stop, To Turn, To Look

Oh, to have eyes in the back of my head. I'd continue looking at you while moving forward. To keep my gaze on light and beauty deters me from the thorny trail that leads to you. For all the could bes and what ifs and might have beens instead there lies only my muddy footprints as a constant display of my unattainable, ever distancing desire. You are a thorn in my flesh, you are clinging to my skin, and you are inside of me. No matter that I passed you by and kept treading forward. No matter, because you linger on my body. Ever present, ever painful, ever constant to remind the flesh of what the heart is without. Though my skin is covered with your presence, my heart remains empty. I miss you and I never had you. I want you and I never got you. I love you and I never stop.

Lose it

I wish I could lose his love. Accidentally drop it in the ditch or leave it behind in a restaurant. But love, like honey, is sticky and sweet. My soul clings to him, my heart is swept away with him, and I wish I could lose love. He's drawing my head to his chest and this pulls me into an eternalized moment, held captive by time only through the constant beat of his heart against my cheek. And suddenly I am the one that's lost.

Ghost

When his arms surround me, time is made to rest. Intertwining fingers, love, you love the best. Pouring from my eyes, my heart, are words without a voice. I tilt my head to look at you, my love, my reason to rejoice.

  

What a big world that I am trapped in. I walk the streets, see the pretty lights, hear the music from the clubs, and my bones go cold for lack of you. What a strange, tender love that I have fallen into. I step into a bar, dance the night away, and let a smile lift my cheeks to hold up the tears seeking escape. This world is big without you in it. My body is foreign without you beside it. If I could climb out of the earth that surrounds me like a pit, then I could crawl into your arms and rest in your timeless embrace. But this big world has trapped me and as it it swallows, it rips me further and further away from any shred of hope that your face would be before my eyes once again. I let the night be cold on my skin as I slip away into the dark streets. I sit down and pour out my heart on the pavement until I am empty of me and empty of you. And there on the stones, we are together. 

Finger-painting with your blood

I draw the story of our love

Smear you all across the page

Wipe my hands upon my face

My fiery words devoured your flesh

Crept to your heart and turned to ash

I watched your eyes slide into death

They looked towards me with innocence

Your soul is soaked in sweet, sweet mercy

My hands are wet, they're cold and bloody

I drug the dagger through my chest

To rip away the emptiness

My eyes are turning to the sky

Your ashes lightly drifting by

A fire seeps into my skin

Hot shame that burns me deep within

My hands they clawed into my chest

And ripped away the selfishness

It's residue clings to my fingers

My sin, my sin forever lingers

For What Was

Sadness comes over me and seeps inside of me. I grab hold tightly of Anger and swallow him quickly as he burns down my throat. All too soon, Pain is within me and he blends into Anger and Sadness. Crippling Fear manages to stir its way into the concoction whirring inside my gut. And then Vulnerability slips into my mouth and creeps down my throat. She weaves her way into the churning tumbles of my insides and sends herself into my veins so that I'm enveloped, devoured by her. She overwhelms me and even Fear isn't strong enough inside me to open his eyes and fight. Fear, Pain and Anger cower inside my belly while Vulnerability defeats my being, mocking me for what was.

Spetember 10th, 2012

And just when I was done with it all, I came back and crawled over to your lap and you took me gently. But when all the rules have been broken, I won't need you anymore to tell me what to do or how to say what I'd like to say, except that all the good things in this world come at the most terrible cost.