october seventh, dusk

like a lamp lit above, red leaves illuminate the hall casting a blushing shadow on my book's jealous pages. the sky is pink and an eerie yellow. it is full of sallow grey jaundiced clouds, but the trees seem to be aflame with their autumn leaves, a ghostly vibrant fire dripping life into the wind. the gusts of breeze seem to nourish the quivering leaves, shaking them to life from their sweet slumber and kissing each one with its fullness. suddenly a darkness falls, splashing everything with its violence. the leaves' fire dulls to embers and and its warmth is lost in the chill of a fall dusk, but i am cozy, wrapped in a sweater and scarf, warmed by the sweetness of wine and a gregarious fire.

who is this

i have awakened with a song on my tongue and a breath in my lungs to sing it. i have woken to chilly autumn morning. i will lie with my eyes closed, the morning's cold breath on my nose. how content, how sweet, how lovely, i am touched by nature, felt and tested, held. i am inspired, i am not alone, i have mine, and you have mine. my senses are satisfied, my eyes full of light, my hands are cold, my mouth has tasted, my ears keep the sounds of nothing and everything. i can smell you in everything. you. you must smell like everything you ever created, and every beautiful rain and fall leaf rotting hill. the sweet apple scent of love. i do not understand, you are a mystery, and i like you that way. you, my father, brother friend and nature. you have not left me, you have not forgotten me. you have me. how have i forgotten your goodness. how you treat me like your own earth, changing me and giving me what i need.

i havent written in 5 months bear with me.

i am soft, lonely, happy and soft. like a handful of feathers, a polished wooden table soft. i am your mother, your sister, your bestfriend as a kid. i am a lover of, a holder of, a cherisher of. i am the sweetest thing youve tasted, the most savoury, i am. i am what loves you most, what feels your pain, what makes you laugh and what dries your tears. i am what holds you when you feel like your skin wont even do you the favour. i am what kisses your rough knees and pushes you back to the playground. i have looked in the mirror, i am. i am beautiful, i am full, i am free, i am loved, i am. far from where i stood just one year ago, but i am still there. i am loose, my heart is loose, my heart is open and free and full full full. fullest. i can love. i can feel. i can just be. i am what you have allowed me to be. thanks be to god.

faux love

what is it about love that scares people to death? open love that makes people run? we have all loved before without inhibitions or fears, but that was years ago right, before we learned our lessons, before we got hurt by "faux love." love is an interesting thing, and as i grow older i realize how much love i still have for many people, more love than i even did 3, 2 or even 1 year ago. something has changed in me, i am able to see people's potential, where they might have come from, where they hope to go, all of these things, and this ability also makes it so easy to stop judging people, and start loving them. somehow knowing that so-and-so had an alcoholic father makes it easier to love him, or knowing that the girl working at the coffee shop was verbally abused as a kid makes me less likely to call her a bitch or a whore, i know her, and she needs love too, even if she is orange from too much tanning, and wears alot of makeup. i used to think that i could not love everyone fully, and i still acknowledge that i cannot emotionally give 99.8% of people in this world the kind of love and care i have the ability to give, but i can give love to some people. the love i give is maybe more intense than it should be, i like to smother, when i love someone, i let them know with hugs or gifts or words or time spent. im not the best listener but i try. i open my heart to many people, but something about our world twists and skews love into something sexual and dirty when it is really quite innocent.

what i am, what i cant be

i am a breeze, i never settle, i am never able to just settle, settle in the branches of a tree or on the surface of the ocean to feel the waves move beneath me. i will always be a breeze, i might accelerate down a mountain, or pause on on a rooftop to look back and see where ive been, but i will never be able to rest. i long for rest, i long to lie still, i desire more than anything to be able to just stop, drop into the household of some family and lie still between the coolness of plaster walls. instead i frustrate the branches of little bushes, push wee birds out of their nests, upset piles of papers on desks, steal napkins and plastic bags, and snatch balloons from children. i agitate everything i meet, i cannot leave anything else to rest either, everywhere i go i cause trouble, occasionally pleasure but mostly irritation, i am the hair in your face, the leaves scuttling up the road, i am broken branches and displaced families, if only i could rest, or wrap myself around the trunk of a tree. even if i could just lie flat in a field and be content to rustle its grass, but somehow, i am always pushed, pushed to continue, pushed to move where i dont want to go, to do what i dont want to do, to hurt what i dont want, to be where i dont want, and never to have what i do want. i am the breeze, i will never rest.

knowing my place

he is out of reach, so completely above me it sickens me a little. he said my name last night, for the first time ever, ive known him for months, but hes never said it. in fact we've never shared a civil word in eachothers direction before. my name sounded foreign on his lips. i turned around, i had been trying to slip past him unnoticed, but somehow, he recognised me. "yes?" i asked. he started on about whether or not i approved and made comments well studied and articulate, premeditated even. i stood there, so awkward, like a child being asked math questions that were too advanced. i stuttered and stammered through answers, hoping they were clever enough, or smart enough. he and i are on different planes though. he is high up in the ethereal world and i am the earth. we mix like oil and water, there will always be a separateness with us. the laws of nature say it must be so. the thing it uses to separate us is like a knife, so sharp that if either of us leans the slightest towards each other, we will get cut. this is how the universe tells us that we are not meant to know each other, not a little bit, not at all.

we are on different planes
we are different worlds
i am water, he is oil
he is beauty, i am function
he is sky, i am earth

the life of a loyal doormat

right. im a doormat. i let myself get stepped on all the time and i do it in the name of love. i am a doormat. i am at your mercy, if i care about you, i will not say no to something i can reasonably give. if i can do it for you, i will, if i can sacrifice it for you, i might give up everything. i let myself get used. i pretend to stand like a desert tower, strong, diligent and full of definite boundaries. i am its moat instead. walk over me, walk straight into my heart, do what you like, make yourself at home, etc. etc. etc. i am uncertain, i value relationships above my own thoughts, i will do anything (mark this) anything, to keep, maintain, and protect the life of a relationship. after all, they are but little plants struggling to grow, and i will pour my own blood before i let them die. i will live sick for days with a nervous stomach ache before choose to do anything that might, might effect a friendship. i am loyal, i will lay at your doorstep til you throw me in the dumpster, i am your doormat.