Puddles of Ink

I close my eyes and you are there, kissing me… touching me… holding me.  When I open my eyes it’s not you laying next to me.  Where are you darling?

Sometimes, you just have to sit back and ask yourself, “Why in the Hell?” and “What’s wrong with these people?”

Lately, I find myself doing this more and more often.  I suppose that is what happens when you live in a small town and work at Walmart.

As I lie in the still of night

and gaze at a hollow sky,

I reflect on the story of my life,

Like the star that has been 

singled out of a cloudy mist,

I dare shine and be heard

in a voiceless universe.

Like the bitter piercing breeze, 

My feelings froze in the grasp of time.

Character and emotion cast

into the mere shell of what is.

Like the lonely owl’s cry,

I longed for my soul’s companion.

Like the fresh scent of a spring rain,

I yearn to be pure.

Life is but a dark universe 

and I enlighten it’s shadows.

Let me lay my head upon your chest.

Soothing my cares while your fingers comb through my hair.

Hold me near, keep me safe.

A tenderness with no expectations, no demands.

A gentle kindredness, words cannot define.

Two collective souls lost in a fragment of time.

“This is who I am,”

I stand silently screaming.

The beat of my heart

drums the rhythm of my soul.

I am a ground-breaking cry

to the questions of life.

Mere words cannot define

the beauty of my essence.

My voice defies the attempts to oppress,

For I am impervious.

I hear the whispers of envy.

Desires that no one can obtain.

You glance both ways

to chase the lingering wafts of what I am.

For I have found my answers.

Ragged, worn hands

Soft, curved lips

Trailing passion devours

Clashing at the hips

Fire engulfed touch

Blazing wild heat

Passion quenches flavor

Dancing to the beat

Hearts strum together

Hunger breaks free

Two souls unite

Flowing passionately

Passion fades from eager

To one spent night

Bodies clenched as one

Basking in love’s bright light.

While reading through some old journals, I found this poem I’d written years ago.  I enjoy looking back on where I’ve been in life, not only as a person but as a writer.

I sit here staring at this screen, knowing that this journey starts somewhere.  The sooner I take to the path the faster I will feel some form of accomplishment.  Through a blank document and a few key strokes I will feel that I have discovered something worthy of knowing and continue on to the next revelation despite its level of grandeur…

There is something about a cold winter day that inspires me to write.  Perhaps it’s the solitude this time of year offers.  I cuddle up on the sofa, with the laptop on my knees.  My fingers lick at the keys, carrying out of me sentiments I’m unable to speak.  There is much weighing on my mind and on my heart.  Relationships.  Finances.  College.  My future.  My dreams. 

For too long, I’ve taken the back seat to other’s desires, wants, and needs.  Where do I begin to fit now that I’m trying to recognize “Me”?  Who am I, if not only the caretaker, provider, and friend?  There is so much I need to discover about myself, it’s overwhelming to know where to begin.  This journey should have started ten years ago.  It didn’t.  Now, at nearly thirty, a broken marriage of shattered dreams, behind me, I’m finally walking this course.   The crucial element here and now is my level of follow through.  I know I can do this for me but will I?

tumblrbot asked: WHERE WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO VISIT ON YOUR PLANET?

I’d like to visit many places, as I’d like to travel the globe in retirement.  Italy, Greece, England, and France probably rank highest on my list.