Exile

Perhaps, when I find myself older and I find myself wiser, I shall reminisce at this brief period in my life and think how passive it truly was.

You do not own me.

There is no possible way to own something so ideological. Such as this time. Such as this. Such as me.

Perhaps, when I find myself rid of all past pretenses and I find myself rid of all ghosts, I shall reminisce at this brief phase in my life and reflect on how grandiose it all truly was.

For he: the ghost. All past ghosts do not chain me in place.

There is no possible way to chain the wind. She is the wind. She is such perforating scent. She is me.

Perhaps, when I find myself standing at my utmost pinnacle and I find myself the epitome of such a pinnacle, I shall reminisce at this brief passage in my life and ponder how coherent it truly was.

Love, I relinquish all predestined forms. All troubles. All sour tastes left behind.

There is no possible way to mask the heart. Round, expressive. Brown, stark. Eyes radiant, sweetheart.   

Perhaps, when I find myself older and I find myself wiser, I shall reminisce of what was, what could never be, and what long has passed.

Crude truths. Oh yes, all crude truths are ridiculous to hide. Mix the fire and sand to ardently burn.

For glass, does so solemnly crack. And thus, here we are.

Shadows. Darkness. Solitude.

You are henceforth, welcome to any fence in my perimeter.

Alas,

I seclude myself in exile.

Oh,

How easily you dismiss our love..  

Chains Detach

The slow painful death of the common peasant.
How shall thy choose your quest?
Flow the wrath of dark, thick blood.
Warm on this flaccid arm.
Whom shall cease thus pain?
My how thee have felt no such immense gain.
Troubled in my mind.
Time and time screams by.
Lust for the young.
Thirst for the wicked.
So sinster the broken hands which hold no wings.
Let all those whom seek light, break free.
Unleash what boils within.
I shall no longer stand shackled surrounded by high fire.
To these iron chains, I do wrings.

The Man and the Apple

A rabid commotion filled the solid white room. Doctors and nurses congratulated the new parents. Their long-awaited miracle had finally arrived.

If love at first sight truly existed, the man had fallen heart first for his Apple: The Apple of his eye.

Never had the man felt such a rush of jolted love. This love was like no other. The immense feeling of joy overwhelmed even non-relative bystanders. How could someone so small affect the man in such a way? It truly was inexplicable. The man had no words; just love.

Apple was placed safe in the man’s arms. Plush cheeks composed her brightly colored face. Tiny round toes kicked in release. Apple’s small delicate hands were almost porcelain-like in comparison to the man’s.

What a world he would bring to his Apple. At her feet he bestowed the silver spoon of success. The man dreamt of the days when he would witness Apple walk for the first time, say the one word every man awaits for his Apple to say, and in a couple of years send Apple off on a big yellow bus.

But for now, the man only held his Apple snuggly. Her scent was so divine. The man’s consistent beating heart sped rapidly at the cooing sounds of the newborn filling the once empty air. Perhaps the room really did get brighter, but the man could have sworn the room lit luminously the minute Apple met his eyes.

So Big. So Round. Their reddish-brown mixed organically with gray. With a full set of light brown hair, it was no surprise Apple’s beauty.

Quickly, Apple was taken from the man and wrapped in a blue and pink striped blanket. The man felt a tremendous void. He demanded his Apple to be returned. The doctors explained they had to care for her in another room. The man winced in jealously. No one should care for his Apple but him!

How the man yearned to hold Apple again. To whisper in her ear and make her laugh. To be the one to wrap her when she finds herself cold. To read her bedtime stories late at night.

But, the man never got that chance.

One day, the man was stripped raw from his Apple.

There was never a solid goodbye.

There was never a solid beginning.

There was never a solid anything. 

The man jerked and pleaded to see his Apple once again.

“Just one more time,” the man shouted with rage.

“Just one more time,” the man seared in pain.

His cries went unheard. The hole he found himself in was inescapable. No one could help the man. And yet, all the man thought about was her.

Apple is so special. Only the man could ever understand that. The man knew in his heart he would never see Apple walk, dance, tell a funny joke, or even cry from falling off her bike. The man knew he would not be there to catch her. Apple would never have anyone to teach her such a petty thing. Who would care for her the way he does? Would there ever be a man who would love her the same way? Could there be a man to cherish Apple? That man would be blessed to see Apple grow. To watch Apple as she explores the world. To attend Apple’s orchestra recitals. Would this man take such a privilege for granted?

To this other man, The Man thought, “You will get to give her away one day at the end of the long aisle.” The man pictured himself being able to give her that blessing, but knew it would never be him.

The man’s stomach churned with disgust. He felt disgusting. The man knew he had let his Apple down. She had always smiled at him so sweetly. It was genuine. The love they shared was untouchable.

Memories swam through the man’s mind like illustrious dreams. Such short-lived memories. As decades passed in the man’s dormant cell, his memories of Apple became more and more scarce.

How bright her reddish-brown eyes must be now. The man thought to himself. It was selfish of him to think; however, the man defiantly walked out of Apple’s life wishing she would only smile for him.

There would not be a man to fill his shoes.

There would not be a man to care for Apple at all.     

The day the man walked out he knew Apple would never smile the way she once did at him again. She would never give her heart. Apple would never love the way she could have loved the man.

There has ever only been one true love for the man.

And her name is:

Apple.

In the Dark

We met in the dark.
In the loud.
In the crowded.

                           

Blaring music boomed from each of the speakers. People yelling. Drinking. Laughing. Venice is, after all, the original city of sin and vice. I was among strangers, but still entirely in ecstasy. Women wore glittering masks revealing only their eyes. Foreign languages resonated all around the room. Lost, yet at home, I trembled with the uncertainty of what was to come.

Our eyes met for a single moment. We both knew then what would be. What wouldn’t be. It was only a matter of time.

 We knew nothing. We knew it all.

You walked me home. I don’t walk with strangers, but after two hours and a few Spritz you were no stranger. Inexplicably, I trusted you to lead me through a city of winding canals and cumbersome alleys. Your lips encompassed mine by my door, and I knew not where I was any longer. Breathless and vibrant, I forced myself to tear away from your embrace. The intensity of the moment terrified me. You were no ordinary man and this was no ordinary kiss. I knew then I had no escape.

You sought me.
I let myself be sought without resisting.

An enchanted world of canals, freedom, and dark nights revolved around us. I strained to conceal the truth of my soul, yet somehow you saw it as clearly as your own reflection.

With you I lived the bliss which comes only with the impossible.

Every moment is lived to the extreme. Attraction is love. Anger is fury. Longing is agonizing. A single touch electrifies.

But such bliss can be a burden.

It numbs your rationale. It strips you of your judgment. And it leaves you with nothing. 

Nothing 

             at 

                all.

Fallout is cruel.

It sees only through the eyes of pride. We never said goodbye. We never kissed goodbye. Yet, I memorized your face. Your skin. Your hair. Your scent. The taste of your lips is engraved in my taste buds. Stubborn, it refuses to leave. I refuse to forget.

You persist to live in a place where no one but me can touch you. Even then, you remain untouchable.

After all this time, questions are all that remain.

If I shall never see you again, why do your eyes constantly pierce mine at night?

If my distant memories are now the only space I have for you, why do you insist on invading every inch of my mind?

If you find yourself an entire world away, how are you ever-present?

If the world itself is an obstacle, why do you crowd my subconscious?

No.

I will not forget.

It was in the dark that you knew me and I knew you.

         
We’ll always have Venice.
Venice will always have us.

The Lie We Lived Together

Spiked walls enclose me.

Dark.

Dim.

Cold.

Let this frozen air choke me. My burning eyes refuse to shed tears. Your face consumes my mind. Your dimpled smile seduced me. It drove me to act outside of myself. Who is this reflection in my mirror? The woman staring back has my eyes, my nose, my face. But, her heart is deceased.

Congratulations, you have successfully stripped me of myself.

How is it that you perceive me standing in front of you? Because honestly, this person I see is not me. This reflection is not the pure, innocent girl I once knew. That girl has since drowned. There is nothing inside her now. You have left her with nothing. And there you are just sitting on your throne unscathed. In fact, nothing touches you. And nothing is exactly what you have lost.

I have lost it all.

You nothing.

Nothing. Not even face.

Emptiness lives within me.

Not even the gift of my word escapes.

I am hollow.

Empty.

Cold.

Raw.

You warmed me up once. But not anymore. The fire you once so fiercely ignited burnt out. Too bad I guess. You ruined me for the next man. Your conscience, on the other hand, knows no guilt.

Does it not affect you?

The scum I am. What I have become exists because of the mistakes I made for you.

The wasted time. Such an unthinkable burden to let you go.

My heart still mourns you. I mourn you. I loved you. I love you now.

You have taken even my drive, my pride, the breath of life that I once was. That I just cannot be again. I have tried with all my might to let go but every moment with you plays in my mind like a movie. Or that damn annoying song that gets stuck in your head. The lyrics were real.

You have plagued me like the parasite that you are. Feeding on me like a host. Because you are not a man. You are nothing but a boy who likes to play house. You give me nothing. You are nothing. And yet you have lost nothing. You escaped like a coward.

You are the ultimate coward.

I do not care to see your face again. You do not even deserve to be graced with my presence. How fortunate you were to get the last pure part of me.

Thank you for tarnishing me.

Do not worry.

You may not be man enough to face everyone. To fight for things you love or want or desire.

But I am.

I am not a coward like you.

I do not run and hide far from the chaos I have caused. I face things forward and with a strong fight. I spit on your pathetic shoes. I spit on your sly, conniving smile. I spit on your memory.

I burn it now.

This is the first and last time I mourn you.

My heart may be scattered with guilt, but it will not be scattered for you.

Coward.

You are only half a man. And I say this with a grain of salt. Splash that wound with salt. Let it burn. Watch it scar. You are not brave enough to even do such a thing.

I am.

Thank you for reminding me that I am a woman. And a strong one at that. I do not hate you. No not at all. I pity you for running away. Yes, running away because that is all you know how to do. That is the only thing you are good at, actually. Sucks for you sir, dearly. May you face the consequences of your actions one day with full force.

Like I have.

Like a man does.

I hope someone unravels you like I have. Like I did.

Let’s be honest here… I know you like the back of my hand, sir.

May you commence to fall as deeply and purely as I once did for you, sir.

May she not flee.

Slash your heart like mine.

Shall thy never quiver in plea.