Finally

Your words are fall leaves. Already empty and dead. A vast difference. In spring, there's hope for the tree.
May you crumble to dust, so you can return to the Earth, as truth. Finally. Beneficial.

Thoughtless

Living as though no one else matters
Stepping on others never trips you up
Speaking as though the audience will never disagree
Hearing them as though they're attached to your mind
So you never listen to what they actually say

Driving over their emotions is like four-wheeling
Throwing their weakness in their face is so easy
Making them cry, waters the crops of your indifference
Logic is the only thing that matters
It's all black or it's all white

The temperature you pick is always perfect
The shows you watch are the only ones of quality
The schedule you want is all that counts
It doesn't matter, the desire of others
It doesn't register, their broken spirit

You don't even notice that they have gone
There will always be others
who will come to be crushed
Wagging a tail in hopes of reciprocation
Giving until they die inside

It must be nice, to be so thoughtless

smg

Stupid

Stupid
for falling in love again
for believing in a new set of lies

Stupid
for trusting that I could be me, good and bad
for thinking that you'd care enough to accept me

Stupid
for listening to your idealistic views of marriage
for hoping that you meant it to be applied to both parties

Stupid
for my faith in you, that you'd keep me safe, even from myself
that you'd always follow, even from a distance, relieved I'm unharmed

Stupid
for not seeing the signs in front of me that you didn't pick me for love
that I'm a tool to be used for another purpose, ultimate revenge upon another

Stupid
because I don't have the answer on how to untangle myself from my own ego's idiocy
so public will be the downfall, the victorious smirks of my enemies already imprinted in my brain

Dear God, Why am I always so stupid?

First

It's obvious who is first
and it's not me
When did I become so accepting
of second place?
What is wrong with me that I feel
guilty about being number one?
Lately, you've made me feel like I'm
third, a citizen of the sewer
and now
resentment builds
I know I don't put you first either
So why am I so angry
at the hypocrisy?
Perhaps
because mine is done on purpose
in retaliation for
your pure callousness and indifference
it's amazing to me how
you only have your point of view
The lack of empathy is killing me
I was dying slowly,
letting you asphyxiate me
but now
that survivalist
instinct is kicking in
and I want to kill you first
I want your soul
to feel my pain
As I plot my revenge,
fighting your smothering ignorance
you better hope
that
Karma
gets you first

Grenade

She screams, "How do I deal with the guilt? Because it wasn't just me, you asshole!  Why should I shoulder the blame alone?  It's your fucking fault too.  I may have place the grenade in between us, but you pulled the pin and held me hostage as it blew.  Shattering us to the four corners." Her chest heaves and she retreats into herself, tired of how the pain of the past insists on creeping into the present, ruining any thoughts of the future. Then her mind, always finding the insane, muses at the ridiculousness of fighting in a bathroom.  She still couldn't believe that the rat bastard made another key and let himself in like he was a palace lord.

He looks at her, calculating the risk of pushing her further. The hole in his heart is cold and yet, he is hard, wanting her.  But she must be disciplined first.

"You are wrong, Reyna.  We could have gone on this way forever.  What can't you ever be happy with what you have? It's obvious you are cheating on me.  I saw the texts from all those men. I know you have a dating profile..." 

She interrupts his irrelevant accusations with her own.  "Shut up, Joshua.  I caught you on foreign dating sites.  I've caught you with other women! Red-fucking handed! I retaliated by breaking up with you!  Remember that?  Then I started dating.  You know it, you god damn hypocrite."

He continues on as if she hasn't spoken.  "I've decided I don't care about you anymore.  I'm returning to my wife.  I think I'll work it out with her."

Bitterly laughing, "Work it out with her?  WORK IT OUT WITH HER?  AGAIN? I can't believe what a sham your 20 year marriage is!  I can't believe that she'd fucking take you back, again!  How many women have you cheated on her with?  HOW FUCKING MANY?"  She's screaming again.  She can't believe that she was so stupid so fall for such a slick player.  So trusting, too trusting, everyone warned her of being so gullible.  He was a light at the end of a dark tunnel.  It turns out it was the flames of hell on the other side. "We have not been together for months, you fucking idiot! Work it out with whoever is stupid enough to believe you.  You'll probably have to go for someone 20 years younger instead of just 15." She snarls sarcastically.

"Reyna, I am warning you to watch your tone."  He advances towards her.  His hand up to smack her face.  Her glare makes him pause.  He stands still and waits for another outburst.

She remembers when she was in such shock. She found the pictures on his new camera of his ex-wife.  He claimed that he had an out of town business trip.  He was gone for over a week.  He texted her every morning and he called her every night.  He was so good, so goddamn good!  She went over to his place to feed his pets and water the plants.  Then noticed some documents sticking out of the filing cabinet.  She felt the ground disappear under her feet when she found the divorce papers unfiled.  Shame seared her soul.  Everyone knew, everyone knew way before she did. She wanted to throw up, thinking that she slept with him while he was sleeping with her. Thinking that he was on his way to marrying her. Bigamy, she would have been with a bigamist! That made her giggle hysterically.  Even when her memories reminded her how he had spanked her violently with a belt for daring to touch his papers.

He raises a superior black, bushy eyebrow.  "Oh the nerve!" she hisses.

He calmly tells her, "You know you're my first full-blown affair.  Please stop cussing or I will not talk to you.  We need to have an adult conversation." He reaches out to caress her and pull her in.  Repulsion propels her backwards.

Oh my god!  He did not really fucking say that!  She turns away and looks her naked body over in the mirror.  The gym was definitely paying off.  A smile spreads across her face.  It'll be okay.  Grabbing the eye drops, she gets rid of the red.  She's going out tonight.  She knows exactly what dress and killer heels. He doesn't like her sudden silent departure.

"I did not dismiss you." He grabs her and spins her around, keeping her from getting to the closet. He feels his control slipping. The spell that once bound her to him is gone.  He wants to eat his cake and still have it, too.  She shoves him off.  He grabs her wet hair and yanks her down, slamming her head onto the bathroom tile. Stunned, she moans.  His hands move around her neck, squeezing slowly, his eyes, killer ice.  Fear snakes around her heart and instinct takes over.  She knees him in the groin, forcing his head to slam into the cabinets.  Surprised he lets go.  She shoves him off and runs out of the master bedroom.  She reaches for the front door.  He's too quick, grabs her again, spinning her around by the shoulders and begins shouting while violently shaking her. 

"You ungrateful whore.  I took you from nothing.  I built you up. I lavish you with gifts. I take care of you, keep you healthy and beautiful..."  His voice went on and on.  Her head and neck hurt badly.  At least in his tirade he stopped shaking her and his grip is loosening.  Remember self-defense class.  She goes limp, takes advantage of his confusion, darts out from under his arms and runs to the backdoor, screaming for help.

He catches her again.  Hauls her over to the kitchen table, throws her down.  Sobs take over, as she hears him pull off his belt and begins beating her.  She can feel his hard-on and knows what's next.
"Please Joshua, not there, please..."

"Oh now you're remembering your place?"  He pushes against her, but doesn't enter.

"Yes, Joshua, I'm sorry, so very, very, sorry."  He backs up and brings the metal end down. 

"Reyna, you disgust me." 

The door bell rings.  He pauses, sure of his control.  "Reyna, go answer the door."

She grabs a blanket and wraps it around her.  She keeps her head down, submissive. 

"Reyna, do not disobey me. You know the routine."  Her shoulders hunch in response.

Opening the door there is a cop.  She mumbles the usual answers to all his concerned questions. It's obvious he doesn't believe her. He sees the freshly dried blood on her face, the fingerprints on her shoulders. The cop gently lifts her face, stares into her eyes and asks.  "Is he still here?"  Startled she answers, "Yes."  He pushes his way into the house, gun drawn, ready to set fire to the slippery slopes of domestic violence.  The suspect tries to run.  The cop chases and shoots him in the leg.  She watches and smiles. "Thank you, justice."

Rival

Stomach in knots
Hard to know what you're
really going to do
Unlike me, you're the master
of poker
and feigned indifference
Everyone knows my hand
and that my heart is always
on my sleeve
Sometimes I can't tell
if you really love me
Yet, here you are
ready to defend me
against the one
that years ago threw my heart
into the desert sand, willing it
to die
Surprised that the burning sun
gave me renewed life
Now he's just
wounded my womanly pride
trying to steal from me
yet again, my identity,
Threatening the love
my children have for me
he prefers me
in a state
of invalidation
His jealousy, his anger
that I found myself
and that you acutally see me
knowing that I don't need you
I simply want you
kills him
Yet what I sense in you
frightens me
because in his gamble to wound me
he attacked you, knives in your back
gun under the table
your ego suffers
How far will you go
to punish he, who is no one's
rival?

At the Bottom of The Stairs

You left me at the bottom
of the stairs
You said you don't love me
any more
Then you
gently
closed
the
door

Chorus:
Well, let me tell you
something
I know I'm worth more than
nothing
and if you can't realize that
then someone else will

I stood there
so stunned
Could not believe
you didn't think
I was the one
Now my heart is breakin'
knowin'
I'm forsaken

Chorus:

I turned to walk away
tears fallin' down my face
prayin'
that I can live
in grace
I know
it might take months
but I will get over you
and when I do
that's when you know
you should've
never
let
me
go

Chorus:

Now you finally
realize
that you did me
wrong
you want me back, baby
but I have
moved on
Please come back up the stairs,
you beg, no dignity
No thanks, I'll stay at the bottom
it's where new love discovered me

Chorus:

Tarnished Image

Your image of me is now tarnished
You can't forgive me for being human
I see what you see
it hurts, reflected back at me

Though you don't realize it
it seems the old saying,
"familiarity breeds contempt"
I feel it rise it in you
and I'm helpless to stop it.

Resentment rears its ugly head
How dare you judge me
When did you become perfect?
Perfection is inhuman, by the way!

Now alone, I wonder
where is this road going?
Do I want to follow?
Is there still time to repair
the facade that you think is me?

Shoulders shrug up, tears fall down
It's time to say, "Go to hell. I didn't
ask you to change!  How dare you
ask me to?!"

I am the good, the bad
I have the ugly, the beautiful
I travel like the roller coaster
Understand that we do this together!
Where is your self-awareness?

Soon, your image may be
as tarnished in my mind
as I am in yours.
Can you handle that in my eyes,
seeing yourself in return
reflection?

Somehow, I don't think so...

Order, please!

You can't help it, can you?
The need for control, the need for order
somehow it's genetically programmed into you

You look at me and know
I have half your genes
how can it be that I am so disgustingly
disordered?

I feel your pain come off in waves
the curses in Japanese start
I shrug
it's MY house now
not yours
and I will do what I want

I love my piles of
clothes, books
bills, food, mess in general
I know what's there
and it comforts me

Can't you just be happy
I'm clean
and just accept
I'm
just cluttered
I promise
there's nothing dead under there!

You look around
helplessly touch
I glare
"Don't!"

You beg, "Organize, please!"
I laugh
and you leave
offended
I still love you, mommy
Stop conditionally
loving me!

Beneath the Pools of Another Moon - Fairytale

 1:  “Legacy of Smoke and Shadow"

Silvery, light shimmering through the thin curtains illuminates a sweet face sleeping. Wheat-colored curls sticking to a drool-covered chin. She smiles and a giggle erupts. Dreamland is good to her. Her mother reaches out and lightly, lovingly touches her daughter's face, unsticking the curls. She's reluctant to leave the nursery. There is an ominous presence outside the house, beyond the salt perimeter; she had frantically placed when she woke up that morning from a terrifying nightmare. It was so real. Her entire family watched in horror as she grabbed all the salt, screaming, "He's coming for Silvie, he's coming for Silvie!"



When she ran out of the salt, she hopped in the car and went to the store for more. Her grandmother was of the fey and had calmly watched the entire proceedings. She asked Jennifer to tell her the nightmare. Grandmother demanded a family counsel after dinner.  She regaled them with a tale of a long-ago neighbor that had lost a child when the mother had not heeded the warnings. Her visiting parents merely shrugged their shoulders. They did exchange raised eyebrows. She could tell they were contemplating putting grandma in a home and committing her to the local asylum, again. She had completely lost it, seven years ago, when her son was
still-born.



Moving to look out the window, pushing the curtains aside, she bathes in the subtle power of the full moon. Her eyes scan the forest beyond for the unseen threat, and then over the glistening ocean. A sudden loud, rustling in the bushes outside the picket fence overwhelms the imagined rhythm of the waves, drawing her attention back to forest. Eyes glow green up at her. She shudders and hopes the thin trail of salt-protection works. A tiny human-like shape steps out and flashes a wicked sharp smile. The four-fingered hand points an unnaturally long finger at her. It mouths something into the night air. Her brain freezes. There's a time-delay, like a bad dub-over, but she hears the message crystal clear in her mind. "It's only a matter of patience, dear one. I will claim the child that should have been mine, many lifetimes ago. You cheated me then, I will cheat you now. You will forget and lose diligence, and then I will strike."



She nearly screams as warm hands slip around her waist.  At the last minute, she registers that it is her husband, Jared. Jared turns her around and lightly plants kisses all over her cold face. A feeling of safety envelops her. Her body molds to his. He tries to lead her from the room.



"What did you see my dear? Is the salt working? Is it keeping the monsters at bay?" His amused tone angers her.  She balks at the doorway. She will not leave Silvie's side.



“Darling?”  She glares at him.  He throws his hands up in mock surrender.  Was he only humoring her, fearing for her mental health again?  He was there when she lost her baby and husband on the same day. Eric died rushing, trying to be there for the birth. It was the first rain on the season and he hydro-planed himself off the ocean-cliff road. Jared was the obstetrician on call, because hers was airport delayed while trying to return from vacation. He said it was love at first sight. But he knew it was the worst timing in history. He cursed fate daily.  He told her that when she broke down and was committed, that he despaired he would never be able to be with her, his true love. It took nearly five years before they crossed paths again. It was when grandmother took ill, that they met and she felt the love spark in what she thought was a dead heart.



It’s best to let it go.  She smiles and sweetly replies, "Nothing dear, just a beautiful fall night." She re-enters the room, sits in the nursing chair by the crib. His disappointed expression that she would, once again, not be coming to bed with him, hurts her. But she must protect the baby. If only he could believe her. That nightmare was horrific.  The creature that wanted her baby, it would take it to the underworld, never to be seen again.  The loss, she couldn’t deal with that loss again.



Grandmother's voice calls out, "Jared? Jared, honey, will you help me to my room." Jared loves grandmother and quickly heads down the stairs. She smiles in relief. Grandmother's timing is always perfect.

Inevitable

How can I explain
the despair
that comes over me
during the brightest of days?

Sun shining down on depression
doing nothing
to break the darkness that lurks
in the shadows of my mind?

A foreboding
that the truth is what
most would
percieve as fiction

You ask me what's wrong
and I can't verbalize
the pain
there's no logic to it

Just a 6th sense that
something
is ending
and I'm afraid it
involves you
perhaps us
A loss so powerful, it fills
the empty places in my soul

I ache for you
I ache for me
and then darkness
descends
and I escape into
dreams,
where all is well
and the daylight hours
are my friend

I wish
that it were that simple
and we could stay
but no
it is not our time

So I wait,
watching
for when the honesty
of the fates
rear their indifferent heads
and bring us down.

Sweet

One moment in time
I broke down in front of you
didn't mean to
for I like to hide

You're so sweet
trying to understand
the reasons you picked for me
couldn't have been
further from the truth

I laughed while I cried
wondering who
was really comforting who
I'm sorry I couldn't explain
but don't feel guilt
for it wasn't because of you

Sometimes I just feel overwhelmed
by the cumulative consequences
of my past actions
and normally I am alone
not having to worry about
the effects on others

Next time, I promise
I'll find a solitary place to
break down
But, thank you
for holding me
for trying
for being
so sweet!

Old Man, One Moment

I was standing there with my girlfriend, Julie in the train terminal. I just had a healthy lunch and wasn't happy about it. Diets sucked. Not that I really needed to be, I just felt like I should be. Next to me was a delicious mouth-watering, FAST FOOD, junk heaven. There was two of everything a starving girl could wish for. They were neatly mirroring each other.  Unholy goodness of greasy, salty fries that would make one bloated for days afterwards.  Oh the giant, artery clogging cheeseburgers, with yellow gooeyness dripping down the bottom bun.  Not to mention the large chocolate milkshakes, the condensation starting to form on the sides. Julie follows my gaze and groans. She scolds me with how well I'm doing, don't blow it, imagine the extra five miles I’d have to run, etc. Grumpily, I move away from her.  I know she’s right but why does she have to kill my fantasy?  I pound my forehead against the wall to ceiling window and give a mock moan of longing.  I feel her turn with a snort of disgust. She goes to sit and to wait for our departure to wine country.

The sunlight is bright for this winter day.  The glass warms my face, momentarily distracting me from my cravings for taste-bud gratification. I could see Burgerland, where the temptation behind me was from, lurking. I wonder if they'd notice if I snaked a French fry. I laugh out loud!

I spin around at the light tap on my shoulder. A handsome old man exactly my height smiles into my eyes. He says, "Forgive me, but you look familiar."

 He pulls me past the table of sin and dances me past my weakness. He whispers, "You look almost like my wife. You laugh like her, too, with genuine amusement!"

 He gracefully twirls me around and I'm impressed that I can suddenly dance. I tell him, "You're a wonderful lead!" I also realize I recognize this man. He is the famous photographer, Gerald Trevino.

 He dips me and says, "Thank you, my lady of the black-haired witches."

 I giggle, "Lady? Witches?" He gallantly bows and walks alone to the table with all the food. I'm half tempted to sit down and help myself. He looks back and sees me contemplating bad manners.

 "Just waiting for my wife."

 I blush and quickly go the opposite direction to sit by Julie. "Psst, that's Gerald Trevino."

She gasps her appreciation and ogles while I watch him furtively from behind my magazine. It's been at least 10 minutes and no wife. Lowering the magazine, I sigh. I can't help it. He hasn't touched his food. Then a sad thought entered my head. I hate intuitive moments. He's daydreaming and lips are silently moving. Against my better judgment for not rocking the emotional boat, I get up and slide in across from him. I can feel Julie's puzzled stare. His big, sad, brown eyes come into focus and stare into my hazel ones. I wait, for if you wait long enough, the stories come out.

 His voice is low, tender and wistful. "50 years ago, my child. I met a raven-haired beauty with green eyes over there." He nods towards Burgerland. "I was instantly smitten. It wasn't long before I convinced her that she was equally smitten enough to marry me! 30 beautiful years, three children and a handful of grandchildren! They're all still so little." His voice chokes at the thought. “He roughly shakes it off, his gray hair barely moves.  “We were blessed with the ability to communicate, love freely, easy money and enjoyment of life." His eyes glint wicked. "Among other things that are important to a healthy marriage...no one compares to Serena. I've managed to go on another 20 years. Channeling my love for her into my pictures, she’s in every one, if you know how to look.”

 My heart breaks.  I’m thirty and still waiting.  True love is such a rarity. I’m in the "maybe I’ll settle for Victor, the nerdy, goody-two shoes, co-worker; or honor my Catholic roots and join the nunnery" mode.  God wouldn’t let me down, will he?

 "You'll find it one day, lady-witch." He guesses my thoughts. My cheeks betray the truth.

 My stomach embarrassingly rumbles. We laugh together.  Mine’s weak with humiliation and his loud with amusement.  A brief breath in and he continues, "This was our first meal together. I've been coming here for 20 years on this day to remember. I swear I feel her here." I feel a chill, the hairs on my body are suddenly electrified and my skin tingles. So glad I didn’t steal a fry.  “Time exists in all forms, together. I feel us, in our youth.”

He touches my hand. "Lady-witch, thanks for the company. I must go. Please be glad to have met me, as I am of you."

I watch his long, lean body get up. He quickly walks out of the terminal. There’s a black photographer’s bag on the seat.  I jump up, "Mr. Trevino! You forgot your camera.”

Running out, I am in time to watch the exact instant as he deliberately steps off the platform and into the arms of the 100 miles an hour nonstop train. Screaming and sobbing, I collapse to the ground. Holding the camera, I’m rocking back and forth. Gentle breezes lift my hair, cooling my tears, against the far wall, illuminating the tunnels just enough, for one moment, I see they are together once more.

Event...ually

"Please listen....please you're not understanding me...." her voice trails off into a hopeless silence. She'd been pleading for hours. Her throat hurt, in desperate need of water. Logic wasn't working today. The shrink's suggestion to use "I" statements was failing miserably. Everything was in "issues proliferation" mode. He was also in the mindset that there was no forgiving and no forgetting her latest thoughtlessness. She's completely to blame. Her head drops in shame and defeat.

Salsa music blasts on, her head jerks up in surprise. She hears the familiar rhythmical steps of him dancing alone. There are no lights on in the living room. There's no cajoling voice trying to coax her out to join him. There's nothing to do but wait. She dozes fitfully. His hostile presence wakes her. How long has he been there? Dread fills her being. His black eyes look crazed and unfocused.

"Please, it's all a misunderstanding," she starts again. "Put yourself in my shoes? Why can't you equate what you did to my situation?"

He doesn't seem to hear or see her. He's holding something protectively close to his body. He's concealing it just enough in his jacket for her to catch a glimpse of shiny metal. He pauses in the doorway, mumbling to himself.

A quiet sob escapes and she strains against the blue synthetic ropes that keep her tied against the iron wrought headboard. A gentle tug forward, it gives slightly, now leaning back. No! Too hard. It thumps against the wall. Frightened green eyes look into his instantly hyper-focused ones. His animalistic grin widens as he approaches the plastic covered bed. The jacket falls open a little more. She can see the curved handle. A fearful whimper slips out. His deep laugh revels in her terror. Frantically tugging harder, the ropes burning into her flesh, he feeds her nightmare with his slow, methodical advance. Her mind flees, giving into pure panic mode, yanking and jerking at her restraints. The paint rubs off; the drywall is exposed, flaking off in bigger and bigger chunks with her mindless bashing. The man-made fibers splintering her flesh.  Screaming accompanies the frenzied behavior. Blood seeps out, changing the rope's bright color, a disgusting purple.

He rushes over and restrains her. He attempts covering her mouth to quiet the shrieks. The weapon slips out from the coat, lands in-between her legs. He's instantly murmuring the usual sweet nothings, apologies for bringing all this on herself, kissing her face. "Mi amor, I'm so sorry. This is your fault. Oh mi reyna. You must be punished."

Her stillness does nothing to deter him. Abrupt calmness takes over, for a crimson hand has slipped free. The knife is there, pressed against his arousal. Swallowing the revulsion, she forces herself to kiss him back. Both his hands go into her hair, caressing and pulling. "If only you would obey me, these things would not have to happen. How many times must I continue to teach you?" Her neck arched back,  exposed, showing finger-shaped bruises. He tenderly traces each one. "Oh my stubborn one..."

Her hand works toward the weapon. With an Amazonian cry she jams it up. He shudders, falls forward. The entire dead weight of pure muscles crushes her. Her triumph watches him die, slowly bleeding out. The tormentor that will soon be no more...eventually.

False Memories

Up and down
trying to get over you
Wishing you'd kidnap me
and take me to that far away place
that you'd promised
many moons ago
But now, I know
how hollow were your words
and you're not the knight
I'm looking for
There are no more men anymore
But somehow
that doesn't keep my heart
from loving you
my body from missing
the things you'd do
My mind's memory goes
hazy at trying to
remember the reasons
why we shouldn't
be together
Thankfully
my soul doesn't forget and
pushes me to move forward
if only it could keep the
rest of me from looking back
at the brightness of good moments
and pretending that they
outshone the bad.
May the truth eventually
bring sanity to
all my
false
memories.
And break
my love for the
idea of you.

Both Broken

I broke your heart to heal mine
I needed to see
one last time
the effect I really had on you
Not bargaining for the effect
you could have on mine
and now
I pay the price for
playing with fire
I have been burned
beyond recognition
beyond the healers' skill
And I sink
into depths of darkness
that light
will not penetrate
My body functions day to day
an actress that deserves an Oscar
My soul, buried deep
under the shallow facade
of freedom
Smile now and forever
knowing that I have sinned
against all
and deserve to die
in limbo
Heart beating out of habit
wish it'd stop
a zombie has more hope
than I
for release
from this self-created prison
hoping to trap you to me
well done, you get the last laugh
as you toss the key
just out of reach
and finally prove
you never really
loved me

Under the Cover of Time

Under the cover of time
I hide
pretending that no one can see me
aging, regretting, reliving
all the minutes that lead me here

Under the cover of time
I cry
alone
about everything,
because
I realize
it is nothing
the past is changeless,
concrete
please
 no one invent the time machine

Under the cover of time
I laugh
insanely
as I begin to understand
that the future is
meaningless, unwritten
a waste of time
to worry about

Under the cover of time
I smash
the clock and watch
as its
parts shatter against
the wall
triumphant that
I'm now
wiser in this present
and
F--- the rest!

Inside

She stands in front of the solid, wooden door, hands frozen above the shiny, brass knob.  Too scared to grab it and turn.  What if it is locked?  The humilation would be too much to bear.  What if it is unlocked?  Does she have the guts to step inside and embrace the future?  Trust issues be damned! Perhaps she should knock and run?  Then she's never have to know the answer to the decision. She laughs at the thought.  It's icy outside and she's in her stilettos.  She can feel that she's turning blue, fingers and toes going numb.  Her long winter coat only covers her knees. An exhale gives body to her breathe, a hazy white, air-brushes the present and flashes her back to a fateful yesterday.

"Shelly, look over there!"  Mimi points a freshly manicured finger at two soldiers lounging against the bar.  They are obviously trolling, no doubt for for one-night stands. She knew they would ship out sooner then later, totally not worth the time!  Or the chance to be on antibiotics for two weeks.

Shelly rolls her eyes.  "Mimi, gross, I don't want a..."  Her voice trails off as the the taller infantryman puffs a ring of smoke towards her and insolently winks.  It couldn't be?  Could it?  Shoving her purse at Mimi, she leaves her startled friend at the table. 

"Hey, Shel!"  His voice in the same low timber that sent thrills down her spine years ago.  Still does. Damn it! The heat between her legs makes her mad as hell.  Her temper rises even higher watching his eyes knowingly roaming the swell of her cleavage and the length of her long legs, enhanced by her red heels.

"Brian," she coolly acknowledges.  Then she positions herself into a solid stance, cocks her fist back and punches him in the jaw.  His friend spits out his beer, guffawing so hard.  Brian ruefully rubs his face.  "Shel, you still have a mean hook."

Refusing to respond, she turns on point, walks back saucily swaying her hips.  Snapping at Mimi, "Stick your tongue back in before a fly lands, girl!"  Taking back her purse, acting like nothing happens, she finishes her Mai Tai in silence.  Then her funny bone kicks in and she busts out laughing.  Mimi giggles in relief.  Bad move!  Brian and his buddy saunter over.  Brian knows that it's always safe to approach Shelly once the laughter comes out.

Mimi flirts with older soldier, Colin.  Shel's blue eyes become glacier. But Brian's hazel eyes stare intently into hers.  His voice deceptively mild, "Shelly, you never showed up."

Her mouth falls open in shock.  "I did so, you f'in a-hole!"

"Girl, I waited at..."  He voices falters as he feels Mimi and Colin's interest focus on his conversation with Shelly.  "I waited for three hours for you with the minist..."

"Bullshit!" Shelly counters.  Her fists curling again.  Eyes glittering evil intentions.  The stool scooting back abruptly, told of her desire to do more physical violence. 

Brian grabs her and places her arms behind her, guides her out the door. He lets her go and she falls against him sobbing.  "Brian, I waited at the St. Helen's Church on Mary Street.  You never showed.  I waited until midnight, like a fool."

Horrified, he stutters, "I was at the St. Mary's on Helen Drive."  He pulls her in and kisses her passionatetly, murmuring how he still loves her and still wants to marry her.  No other girls can compare to her.

She listens hopeful, wanting to believe.

Tires crunching down the road bring her back to the present.  Yesterday's haze gone and yet, she still wants to believe.  She firmly grasps the handle, turns and steps across the threshold.  Yes, all will be right this time, on the inside.

Leap of Faith

Stop teasing me and be real
Do you mean what you say?
I wonder if he knows the exact
effect his words have on me?
Does he calculate the variables?
My mind was made up and now...
what do I do?
Take a leap of faith?
Over a chasm so wide, so deep
that it's even darker than my
dreams
on the rare occasion
I manage to sleep
There's a bright light
winking promises at me
across the way
his voice
deep with seduction
"Don't worry about tomorrow
I got this babe!"
My heart wants to follow
this piped piper's tune
but my mind weeps with fear
My soul is quiet, watching,
so
I try to live in the now
to focus on today
that's the closest to the future
that I dare to flirt with
He knows and teases
"We'll build the future
under your groundless feet
as you fly over distrust,
and leave it far behind
So please jump, my love
I promise, I'll catch you..."
I close my eyes,
hold my breathe
and
I take
a leap
of faith

Possibly Until Tomorrow

He tells himself that he'll tell her tomorrow. He tries to look past his reflection in the store window and lose himself in the excitement of the games flashing on the HD screens. Its initial glossy allure fails to distract. His friends' voices fade into the distance. They're heading to the local sports bar. The guilt of yesterday cannot let him enjoy his Sunday afternoon. He's riveted by his image blasting into painful 3D. Blue eyes that are clouded with pain and insecurity stare accusingly back at him. A mouth so full of lies, open and close like a hooked fish. "Tomorrow, I swear it! I'll tell her!" His words are met with reflected self-contempt. Hands angrily bat away the air, stomping feet hurriedly chase after buddies oblivious to his procrastination.


She knows something is off. Not necessarily wrong, just "not quite right." Restlessly she gets up and looks out the hotel's bay window. The boats are bobbing up and down, lights are winking on as the sunsets, and brilliant colors soften into night. It's an hour until dinner. Her cerulean blue dress, his favorite on her, hangs patiently waiting for the appointed time. By the door, pointing the way out, a pair of sexy white heels. She smiles suddenly at her reflection. A well of hope blossoming its way into her heart and mind. He's been so secretive and moody, so up and down about this trip. The promise of, "This will be a trip to remember..." echo in the memories of her mind. This was their five year anniversary. Would he finally? Could he possibly move past it all? The petals fall away and hope gently slips away into hibernation. She feels helplessly in love, but quiet logic thinks, "If not today, then I will no longer waste my tomorrows."

Dinner is silent. He holds the menu like it’s some protective shield. The flame flickers, she can almost hear the air whisper, "Run!” It started normally enough. Then she asked how his guy's day out yesterday was? She knew his team had won. He didn't come home until about 2 p.m. and for a change, he wasn't worshipping the porcelain god. He noisily climbed into bed, bumping her on purpose. When she didn't respond. He stared at her instead. She faked sleep because she didn't want to start a fight. Not on the morning of their anniversary. Her determination to prevent a fight on one of their anniversaries forced her to bite her tongue. But she blew it. Her intuition was in over-drive. The truth must come out, one of them must give. The waiter came, took their order and the menus. He was forced to look at her. The anguish that overwhelmed his features made her want to reach out and tell him that it was okay. Ignoring her gut instinct, she waited for him to break.

"Baby, I'm sorry! I'm such a dumbass..." He looked at her apologetically. "I wanted this anniversary to be special. You've been my dream girl, but I f---ed it up, again!"

Her doe brown eyes blinked back tears. She knew it, he cheated and now he's confessing.

"Baby, I swore I'd tell you the truth tomor...today," he's voice was low with guilt and humiliation.

"God, you're so beautiful. I don't deserve you!"

"Damn straight!" She spitefully hissed. She begins to rise.

"No, wait." He drops to one knee. "Please, you're the love of my life. Please marry me."

Her mouth drops open in surprise. The restaurant freezes, watching.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I've been so stressed out about it. I forgot the ring at home. But please marry me anyway."

Her laughter rings out. Relief and hope spreading throughout her body. "Yes, you moron, I'll marry you!"

The restaurant patrons clap and cheer. He stands and pulls her in. They passionately kiss. She's smiles up at him. He whispers, "I swear, I got the ring and you'll have it when we fly home...as soon as we walk through that door." She kisses him into silence, wiggles her hips into his, "Don't worry, we'll find ways to make the time pass quickly." Congratulations and catcalls follow them out. Dinner forgotten...possibly until tomorrow.