In the Corner of the Room

The room was dark, musty. The smell wafts slowly toward me, like an old person rising to greet a long lost friend. Even the hinges creak hello softly as I push the door to my grandmother's bedroom wide open.  Dust swirls around me as my presence finally creates a wind of life raising the dead.  What stories could the sparkling particles tell that vie for my attention as I rush to open the thick wood blinds?  What is recorded in their layers of my grandmother's last days? Their silvery twinkles fall to settle at my feet as I survey the room in the dimming light.

Her bed is still neatly made, covered in the many-colored, multi-textured quilt we made after my parents died in a car crash.  She knew I hated to talk about my emotions and she kept me busy, sane with the plotting and planning of a quilt that would represent our family. I still find it amazing that a piece of cloth, nearly square, neatly stitched had such power.  I still marvel that random scraps had the ability to be a trigger of information that could break one down, make one laugh, or sigh for the wanting of the past.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the plain, oak headboard, I settle easily in the indentation that I created while watching grandmother's shallow, labored breathing, night after night.  I tried to be there, to keep her from dying alone.  I failed, called away by an emergency at work. Her gentle, but firm, "Go Amelia, go..."

A false call, for when I arrived, no one was there. By the time I returned...tears creep up. Suddenly I can feel her hand in mine.  So very real.  I close my eyes, it's comforting to hold again, her thin, bony and dry crepe-paper skin. I trace the patch with blood-red rose that we had picked to represent her.  She said the petals and thorns accurately depicted life.  I did not understand her then. My twelve year old mind thought it was beautiful like her.

The temperature abruptly drops.  A wisp of air blows across my cheek, causing me to turn.  I hear a whisper in my ear.  The chills cause me to stand up and my attention is drawn to warm sunlight that unnaturally illuminates the corner.  The unique, triangular dresser beckons.  The hand-painted golden roses gleam. I finger the tiny skeletal key at my neck. It feels like ice and I lift it off my skin. 

"Hurry, hurry!"  Was that Grandmother's voice or mine? The urgency swells, am I imagining tires coming down the gravel road?  I tug at the key, breaking the silver chain.  No time to worry, I unlock the third drawer, flip it upside down, press the left corner of the base of the triangle.  It pops open.  Were there two sighs of relief? I turn my head and catch a glimpse of a shadow.  No time to worry.  I clutch the dark, velvet wrap tightly.  The hard shape reassuring me it's definitely there.  The only thing I would take away with me. I back away, quickly scanning, the room would look undisturbed, except for the dust.  It records my presence, the others will know I was here first. There is nothing I can do.  The neighbor's dogs bark  Yes, they are coming.  But I have it.  The proof of beginning and the end of the entire bloodline of  La Croix.

Left Behind

My soul aches for yours
It sees what you've stopped listening to
It wonders at how you've managed
to stop its nightly
journeys to the heavenly realms
how limp, so shriveled in its human cage
black from absorbing earth-bound light
no longer reflecting colors into white
no longer singing celestial songs of love
impure now
spewing venom from red lips
viewing the negative through hatred's
depressed eyes
touching with aggression
willing all to feel your pain, its pain
filling the empty spaces with self-loathing
my soul used to commune with yours
and now there is nothing
I wish I could save you
but you have chosen to be left behind
God has forgiven you
may you forgive you
for this temporary self-neglect
and come back
to truth's embrace
It is nothing to fear
learning our lessons with the human race
Time is infinite and time is illusion
our souls are permanent
these lives are not
In the end,
all will be healed.
I love you
and hope we commune again
when you chose to re-awaken,
when you chose next time,
not
to be left behind

Shhhhh...

What do you do when your trust has been destroyed
How to you get over being used as a pawn or toy
The hurt from the past that has never faded
Frozen heart, beyond the simpleness of jaded

Hopeful words, admiring eyes, warm smiles, friendly hugs
met with smooth practiced responses, cynical mental shrugs
Outwardly flirty, a hint of naughty, hot, intriguingly cold
They're the conquering hero, territory bought, but not sold

Under soft flesh,  protected by a thick, titanium core
Detached mind notes: Cupid's arrows, such a bore
As the volley flew in total desperation
A piece cracked under the assault's vibration

Can the fire at the weapons' tip, at this point, really matter?
Can it melt her enough so she doesn't completely shatter?
No, it's too late, razor thin shards carpet the ground
follow the bloody trail, but please,
don't          make            a                sound...

Under the Kiss of a Blood Soaked Tree

A little girl sits
in a tree of severed arms
dripping dark blood
on her pretty white dress
making strange polka dot patterns
not quit right

She swings her legs in a careless fashion
she smiles,
too young to know the word
"terrified"
The sinners are silent

Carrion eaters attack the limbs
that hold her world together
the lies that adults wove
pecked apart

She's mesmerized by the way
her dress floats up and down
with the beating of their
large, dirty gray feathers

Tiny hands, now bloodied, reach
for the vulture's head
that comes between her legs

It squawks in revulsion
hops down
She is still of the living
no good for eating...yet

nothing stays alive or
innocent for long
even now the tree decays
feeding darkness'
hovering wings

Her dress,
drying to brown
purity disappears
from the surface

but hope's gentle kiss
blows the dust away
there's still
the whites of
her eyes.

A taste

Urges within
welling up
taking over
rational thought
your scent
makes
me hungry
I desire
a taste
of your
salty flesh
your maleness
driving me
mad
I need you
now
to come
and release
us both
from
lust

Insanity

Your fear
of the beast within
is visible
your pupils
are dialated
your hands shake
the pulse in your neck
flutters frantically
Your fear
of the beast within
is audible
your breathe is shallow
as you feign calm
your steps light
as you back away
Your fear of the beast within
is salty
with a bitter aftertaste
dry as you try to speak
bravado, false tones deep
Your fear of the beast within
touches all
that are around you
none can miss
the cold hands
of panic
as you try to escape
your fate
instead of
embracing your
destiny
The eyes you
walk away from
reflect
the truth
Your fear of the beast within
has disabled you
and that, my love,
is insanity.

Fighting Again...the ex landlord this time! Very Rough Draft

Mr. B.M;                                                                                                10/05/10

I am very upset about the deposit I just received today on 10/05/10.  I feel that I have been deceived and cheated.  I did the walk-through with Mr. X (property manager) on Friday, Oct. 1, 2010 at 4:30 p.m.  I was told that everything looked great, thanks for taking good care of the house and that he was sorry to see me go.  I would be receiving my deposit back minus the water bill on Oct. 4^th, 2010 (note date discrepancy).

I find it very shocking that you would do your own walk-through and decide without consulting me what was wrong with the property.  You took action steps on items that could have easily been worked out and done for free by me, had they been legitimate damage done by me and not your previous pet owner, smoking tenants.

I am disputing the water bill, there is no way that it was that high ($121.00).  I vacated the premises on Oct. 17^th.  I realize you and your father have access to the garage and perhaps you changed the watering system unbeknownst to me? My average water bill was approximately $75.00 over the 12 months, please see enclosed copies. Since you also never fixed the water heater for August, I was also unable to shower most of the time on the premises. There was also no point in using the dishwasher. If anything, the water bill should have been less.

I also am arguing with the pet stain on the carpet.  There were no pets in the house.  My cat disappeared a long time ago.  Maybe it was a juice spill from my kids, this could have been cleaned by my steam cleaner for free, had you pointed it out to me during the walk-through that should have been done together.  However, please remember that the carpets were done after I moved in, so they only cleaned around my furniture, not under it. As it was not noticed in the walk-through with the property manager, you have no right to charge me $85.00 for that.

I apologize for the broken light switch.  I sincerely doubt that it costs $10.00 to replace.  Again, I would have replaced it for the $.89 - $2.00 on my own had it been pointed out to me. I would like the receipts for everything, please.

I would also like to remind you and your property manager how filthy, cigarette-filled, dusty and spider/insect infested the house and garage was before I moved in.  The carpet and floors were also fur packed and mite infested (me and my children ended up with reactions from it).  My mother and I took pictures to document the work that had to be done by me, my family and friends before I could move in.  This took a week that a housekeeping service would have easily charged you a $100 or more a day for.I would also liked to have pointed out that you asked me to keep the front lawn and butterfly bushed alive.  I did so, at my expense.

After I moved out, you were left with an entirely clean-smelling, spotless house and garage, that anyone could have moved in the second I stepped out.  I left it way better than I found it.

Please refund me the rest of my money.

Sincerely,

SMA