Friday, December 14, 2012
Another Statisic
I dreamed of owning a large house a large pool hell, even went as far to dream of a personal jet. I made promises. If I could have, I would have made a blood pact. I promised my parents their own home. I promised that they would see me graduated walking down the stage finished with school and starting a new career. I thought of all this as I held the stick. "Promises," I whispered, "broken promises."
My parents are old fashion extremely traditional so having a baby out of wedlock would kill them. I still haven't told them. They would die. What would they say? How would the look on their faces be? A puta is what he'd call me. A puta. What am I going to do? I know many have been in my shoes, but honestly right now I do not care about the many who have been in my shoes. I only care about what is going on with me and "my shoes." What does one do in a situation. (the question is rhetorical) Abortion? No. I am pro life. Maybe I can not be pro life just this once? Ha. hypocritical of me, huh? I can't abort. I wouldn't be able to live with the guilt. I think that is a larger shame, at least to me it is.
Adoption? Yes. I'll go for adoption. There are many couples who are looking for children to adopt.
Or maybe I could tell the truth. The truth....sounds like the right thing to do. I could tell the truth give up my dreams my career for a while, never buy my parents their home, live horribly. I'll be, am another statistic.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Isolated
Can't you hear the screams?
Are you deaf to me?
Can you not feel the loneliness? The one that cries out to you. How can you be deaf to that?
How can you be deaf to the way I call you; the way I yearn? Can you not hear my desperation?
The flowers that lie on the floor underneath the shatters glass the ones I hate because they were not from the one my soul seeks. Are you blind? Can you not see how I flail my arms for you to notice me?
Can it be that it's just me? Can it be that I've been blind to it all? Wanting to see something that was never there. It's a revelation that all along I've stood in isolation.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Why?
What did the baby come for?
That was the question trite
The neighbors asked each other
That stormy winter's night;
What was the need of children?
Twas hard enough before
To keep care out of the window.
The gray wolf from the door.
Out on the wintry barren,
Over the sleeping town,
Out of the cold, dark heaven
Drifted the snowflakes down.
Within the low, old cottage ,
Flickered the candle's flame
In the dusk of the early dawning,
But never an answer came.
What did the baby come for?
A woman's heart could tell,
At the touch of the tiny fingers,
Like to a fairy spell-
A heart that was hard with doubting,
A soul that was barred with sin,
Opened a tide from God's ocean-
The mother-love swept in.
What did the baby come for?
A strong man's heart had grown.
Through poverty's constant grinding,
As hard as the nether stone ;
Only a baby's prattle,
And yet, O wonderful song
That made a man's heart grow lighter-
Made a man's hands grow strong;
Was ever a spring or summer
That vanished on wings so fleet ?
Ah! twas a joy to labor
When living had grown so sweet;
Care never came to the window.
And poverty, gaunt and grim,
Never stepped over the threshold ;
There was no place for him.
Maitland, N.S.W. : Thomas William Tucker and Richard Jones, 1843-[1893]
Saturday, August 25, 2012
FML?
I heard a teenager say today FML. I had my back to her and the words were so loud to me that I had to even scrunch my face. She proceeded on to say, "They don't have my correct shoe size! FML!"
Okay... what? You're saying FML because of you can't find a correct shoe size? Seriously? Let me give you a list of as to what may be an appropriate time to use this phrase:
1. Your family was killed in an accident. Heck it might even be said if your DOG died in an accident.
2. You were dying of starvation
3. You had a horrible disease. Yes, this could possibly include STDs.
4. You were in Hell, but if you didn't believe in it then you were reincarnated into a rock.
5. You were in a comatose state the rest of your life. Although I don't know how you would be able to say it.
These are just SOME of the times when it would be appropriate to say FML.
Here are some INAPPROPRIATE times of saying it:
1. As stated above because you couldn't find your correct shoe size or pants size. Look in another store then!
2. Reaching the end of a Doritos bag.
3. You missed your favorite show which you happened to have recorded anyways.
4. Someone took your parking spot at Wal-mart which technically wouldn't even be yours to begin with.
5. Reaching the red light.
6. Your phone died.
Maybe we should be a little more cautious of what we say because honestly if your FMLing ( or FingML) when the second list of things happen to you then what will you do when the first list of things happen to you?
Oh the generation of today.....
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Choosing to love
I talked to a few of my friends about this concept. The concept of choosing to love someone. It's not making or forcing yourself to love that person but it's choosing to - let me explain.
When you enter a romantic relationship it's because you FEEL love. You feel the butterflies, you feel the air leaving your lungs every time you see them and you start hyperventilating, you get the sweaty palms. the accelerating heartbeat, the adrenaline running through your veins, I could go on. Point is, you FEEL it. The feeling is there, but what happens after a year or two maybe three? All those feelings I just listed are gone. You no longer get the sweaty palms, you stop hyperventilating and so forth. So, is it that you are out of love?
And that's where I believe choosing to love someone comes in. I don't believe the love is gone just because you don't feel the mushy stuff. I'm not a marriage counselor, but I have talked to a few of them and some pastors about this concept and they agree. I strongly believe this concept should be applied especially in marriages, and it's because it's not that I believe a lot of marriages don't work out.
Marriage scenario - You both begin to argue. He says some pretty hurtful things, you do too. Words are thrown around carelessly. "I hate you. You're an idiot. My father was right about you." So now tell me, Do you feel love for him or her now? I bet all the mushy stuff evaporated, huh? What's stopping you from leaving and cheating? I believe it's the choice of loving them. You don't feel love at that moment but it's the choice of loving them that keeps you faithful. Love matures and you won't always feel it. It's deeper than butterflies, and when things are difficult it's a choice.
My friend and I discussed that maybe this concept could only work in arguments, but then realized quickly that it's not so.
Beginning scenario - Feelings change. They do. "I don't know about you, but I'm just that type of person that I wake up and I'm certain about something, and the next day I wake up and I'm not so certain anymore." - is what a friend told me and I agree. I'm the same way. I know that in relationships there are going to be some days you wake up and say to yourself, "There's no other person I'd rather be with." and the next day wake up and think, "Do I really want to be with this person? Do I even love them or care?" What happens when you do wake up to that second feeling? You have two choices, you can leave and possibly risk the chance of FEELING different tomorrow, or you can choose to love that person that day regardless of how you're feeling. Hey could be the pizza from last night that's causing all these feelings to go haywire.
My situation- I'm talking to this amazing man. He's smart, sweet, funny, witty, handsome, you know, the whole package. The only problem is that he lives in a different state. There are days I feel those stupid butterflies and times when he'll say something and I'm blushing, but then there are days when I'm severely lonely and want to hug him or be in his arms, but it's not possible. Even though I feel lonely even when those butterflies fly away I choose to still care. I choose to still wait. It's a difficult situation but I know I have love for this guy and the disappearance of the "butterfly feeling" won't change what I know. And what I know is that at the moment there is no other man I would rather be talking to. What I know is that at the moment there is no other man I would rather show my love to. What I know is that I'd take a bullet for him....in the arm, or leg.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that feelings totally vanish, but maybe those feelings that had made you believe you were in love will. The feeling of your heart racing when you see them every time, or the 101 ways of saying hello racing through your mind at 100 mph will possibly leave. It's what I said before love matures. It's no longer those butterflies, and when you're in a tight situation in a relationship it turns into a choice.
Summary - Don't make decisions based on how you feel because it'll change. Base them off of what you know. Even when you don't feel it just choose to. Make sense?
When you enter a romantic relationship it's because you FEEL love. You feel the butterflies, you feel the air leaving your lungs every time you see them and you start hyperventilating, you get the sweaty palms. the accelerating heartbeat, the adrenaline running through your veins, I could go on. Point is, you FEEL it. The feeling is there, but what happens after a year or two maybe three? All those feelings I just listed are gone. You no longer get the sweaty palms, you stop hyperventilating and so forth. So, is it that you are out of love?
And that's where I believe choosing to love someone comes in. I don't believe the love is gone just because you don't feel the mushy stuff. I'm not a marriage counselor, but I have talked to a few of them and some pastors about this concept and they agree. I strongly believe this concept should be applied especially in marriages, and it's because it's not that I believe a lot of marriages don't work out.
Marriage scenario - You both begin to argue. He says some pretty hurtful things, you do too. Words are thrown around carelessly. "I hate you. You're an idiot. My father was right about you." So now tell me, Do you feel love for him or her now? I bet all the mushy stuff evaporated, huh? What's stopping you from leaving and cheating? I believe it's the choice of loving them. You don't feel love at that moment but it's the choice of loving them that keeps you faithful. Love matures and you won't always feel it. It's deeper than butterflies, and when things are difficult it's a choice.
My friend and I discussed that maybe this concept could only work in arguments, but then realized quickly that it's not so.
Beginning scenario - Feelings change. They do. "I don't know about you, but I'm just that type of person that I wake up and I'm certain about something, and the next day I wake up and I'm not so certain anymore." - is what a friend told me and I agree. I'm the same way. I know that in relationships there are going to be some days you wake up and say to yourself, "There's no other person I'd rather be with." and the next day wake up and think, "Do I really want to be with this person? Do I even love them or care?" What happens when you do wake up to that second feeling? You have two choices, you can leave and possibly risk the chance of FEELING different tomorrow, or you can choose to love that person that day regardless of how you're feeling. Hey could be the pizza from last night that's causing all these feelings to go haywire.
My situation- I'm talking to this amazing man. He's smart, sweet, funny, witty, handsome, you know, the whole package. The only problem is that he lives in a different state. There are days I feel those stupid butterflies and times when he'll say something and I'm blushing, but then there are days when I'm severely lonely and want to hug him or be in his arms, but it's not possible. Even though I feel lonely even when those butterflies fly away I choose to still care. I choose to still wait. It's a difficult situation but I know I have love for this guy and the disappearance of the "butterfly feeling" won't change what I know. And what I know is that at the moment there is no other man I would rather be talking to. What I know is that at the moment there is no other man I would rather show my love to. What I know is that I'd take a bullet for him....in the arm, or leg.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that feelings totally vanish, but maybe those feelings that had made you believe you were in love will. The feeling of your heart racing when you see them every time, or the 101 ways of saying hello racing through your mind at 100 mph will possibly leave. It's what I said before love matures. It's no longer those butterflies, and when you're in a tight situation in a relationship it turns into a choice.
Summary - Don't make decisions based on how you feel because it'll change. Base them off of what you know. Even when you don't feel it just choose to. Make sense?
Thursday, July 5, 2012
The Trip
I sat swinging my feet on the chair. My head started to hang low as the swinging of my feet started to cease. I started fidgeting around with my fingers hoping it would keep me awake. My body was on the verge of shutting down. The long journey had taken up all the energy my eight-year-old body could handle. I heard the doors unlock, and the sleepiness that had been tormenting me vanished quickly. My eyes grew wide as I finally saw my dad walk through the doors.
I didn’t want to go to Texas. I’d seen the old western movies and thought about being in a desert with nothing but Hollywood’s stereotypes; the good ole cowboys, the cactus, and the dry bushes floating around. Texas, in my mind, was nothing compared to Maryland. Maryland had the scent of pine cones, and was dressed with the vibrant colors of the red robin. Yet, here I was packing my things to go to Texas. The thought of my dad being there crept in my mind and took me to a whole new world. I imagined the friends he’d made, probably cowboys, and hopefully the good kinds. I packed the last of my things in the car. I noticed the look on my mom’s face, a look of pure anguish. My siblings and I knew what she was thinking, but we all said nothing. The thought of Dad being in Texas worried us too. Although there were four of us in the back I wasn’t too crowded. I sat next to the window and didn’t let the sight of one tree pass me. It wasn’t long until the complaints started to overpower the songs on the radio. For hours we tortured my mother with the same phrases; “I’m hungry. My back hurts. Mom, it stinks. Mom, I’m thirsty. Get your elbow off of my stomach! No you’re stupid. Are we there yet?” The nagging finally started to hinder as nightfall settled in. We all fell asleep to the hum of the tires running smoothly against the road.
I awoke in time to see the sign “Welcome to Texas” I looked out the window and to my surprise didn’t see any deserts or cactus, at least not the ones I’d seen in the movies. My thought was disrupted by a bump on a road, and to my horror realized that my bladder was extremely tight. I could hear the “water” whooshing around in there. I begged my mom to find the nearest gas station, so when she pulled over in the middle of nowhere I was a little stunned. She grabbed a towel and stepped out, and demanded for me to step out as well. She held the towel in the air making it seem that no one would be able to see me and ordered me to go. I, of course, refused to use the restroom in broad day light, but her tone and her distress only put more pressure on me to do so. She said, “If you close your eyes no one will see you.” I closed my eyes and started to cry while I used the restroom.
Two days and twelve hours later we had finally reached our destination. The white building looked isolated. I looked around and saw men in jumpsuits playing basketball. I stared at them for a while. I wondered what it was like playing basketball in a cage. I followed my mother inside, and at the end of the mile long hallway sitting was a policeman behind a computer. His voice echoed down the hallway as he said, “Who? How many?" My mom replied “Jose Abrego. Five.” He lead us to the bench and told us to wait, and that it was going to be a while. We sat and waited for almost two hours. Even though I was tired I tried to keep my legs swinging and when that didn’t work I played with my hands. I finally heard the sound I had been waiting to hear. The sound of the doors opening. And through those doors came my dad wearing a, what seemed to be, white jumpsuit. He looked so tired and weak. I sat in front of the window as did he. I picked up the phone, and he picked up his. “Dad,” I said, “I miss you.”
I hadn’t seen my dad in four months. Ever since he had been sentenced to ten years in prison for attempted murder we saw less and less of him. It was nice coming all the way here just to see him. We laughed, which was unusual considering the circumstances. After talking for hours the guard came and said time was up. My heart sank. I had a mixture of emotions. I guess in the end I was just happy that I got to see him again. I saw my dad cry as he got up to leave. I found myself crying without wanting to. Before I could tell him I loved him he was gone. My mom lead the way out. We hopped into the car and with silence went back home.
I didn’t want to go to Texas. I’d seen the old western movies and thought about being in a desert with nothing but Hollywood’s stereotypes; the good ole cowboys, the cactus, and the dry bushes floating around. Texas, in my mind, was nothing compared to Maryland. Maryland had the scent of pine cones, and was dressed with the vibrant colors of the red robin. Yet, here I was packing my things to go to Texas. The thought of my dad being there crept in my mind and took me to a whole new world. I imagined the friends he’d made, probably cowboys, and hopefully the good kinds. I packed the last of my things in the car. I noticed the look on my mom’s face, a look of pure anguish. My siblings and I knew what she was thinking, but we all said nothing. The thought of Dad being in Texas worried us too. Although there were four of us in the back I wasn’t too crowded. I sat next to the window and didn’t let the sight of one tree pass me. It wasn’t long until the complaints started to overpower the songs on the radio. For hours we tortured my mother with the same phrases; “I’m hungry. My back hurts. Mom, it stinks. Mom, I’m thirsty. Get your elbow off of my stomach! No you’re stupid. Are we there yet?” The nagging finally started to hinder as nightfall settled in. We all fell asleep to the hum of the tires running smoothly against the road.
I awoke in time to see the sign “Welcome to Texas” I looked out the window and to my surprise didn’t see any deserts or cactus, at least not the ones I’d seen in the movies. My thought was disrupted by a bump on a road, and to my horror realized that my bladder was extremely tight. I could hear the “water” whooshing around in there. I begged my mom to find the nearest gas station, so when she pulled over in the middle of nowhere I was a little stunned. She grabbed a towel and stepped out, and demanded for me to step out as well. She held the towel in the air making it seem that no one would be able to see me and ordered me to go. I, of course, refused to use the restroom in broad day light, but her tone and her distress only put more pressure on me to do so. She said, “If you close your eyes no one will see you.” I closed my eyes and started to cry while I used the restroom.
Two days and twelve hours later we had finally reached our destination. The white building looked isolated. I looked around and saw men in jumpsuits playing basketball. I stared at them for a while. I wondered what it was like playing basketball in a cage. I followed my mother inside, and at the end of the mile long hallway sitting was a policeman behind a computer. His voice echoed down the hallway as he said, “Who? How many?" My mom replied “Jose Abrego. Five.” He lead us to the bench and told us to wait, and that it was going to be a while. We sat and waited for almost two hours. Even though I was tired I tried to keep my legs swinging and when that didn’t work I played with my hands. I finally heard the sound I had been waiting to hear. The sound of the doors opening. And through those doors came my dad wearing a, what seemed to be, white jumpsuit. He looked so tired and weak. I sat in front of the window as did he. I picked up the phone, and he picked up his. “Dad,” I said, “I miss you.”
I hadn’t seen my dad in four months. Ever since he had been sentenced to ten years in prison for attempted murder we saw less and less of him. It was nice coming all the way here just to see him. We laughed, which was unusual considering the circumstances. After talking for hours the guard came and said time was up. My heart sank. I had a mixture of emotions. I guess in the end I was just happy that I got to see him again. I saw my dad cry as he got up to leave. I found myself crying without wanting to. Before I could tell him I loved him he was gone. My mom lead the way out. We hopped into the car and with silence went back home.
The Waltz
He stands mightily
with elegance
Arms around
my waist in complete arrogance
His hand I
must take
This smile I
must fake
My eyes
wander the room
And I have resurrected
from the tomb
Of you I've caught sight
You've been
observing me all night
Your eyes
plead a single dance
But I refuse
to take the chance
The
suspense you cannot stand
You
approach me gently grabbing my hand
And steal
me away from my lover
The glaring eyes we cannot cover
We make our
way to the floor
We
gracefully begin to soar
The music
begins to play
In your
arms is where I want to stay
This night
has to end
There is no
need to pretend
Your eyes
beg me to stay
Come now,
we have to part ways
Dawn breaks
the rooster calls
With your
touch you tore down the walls
The Waltz,
the purity of its art
Is how you
captured my heart
Everything has
a start
But now we
must grow apart.
- Ana
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Train of Thought
So, I had a chat with my co-worker tonight - our topic, The End of Times. We spoke about purpose, plans, life, and God.
1. What if some of the things in your life are used as impede you to get closer to God, or to find your purpose in life?
2. If No. 1 is true, how do you get rid of these distractions if they are people you love?
3. How will I know my purpose in life?
4. Did you hear about how they want to make it all into one currency
5. Did you hear about that comet.
ETC
I advised my co-worker that it wasn't anything to get worked up about.
I believe in a spiritual realm and do believe in a God and a devil angels and demons. I believe some things are put in your path to hinder you from finding your true purpose, but I also believe that God can remove that certain thing if you ask Him to.
As for your purpose. No one ever knows what their purpose in life is. All I know is that God has plans, and if you're searching Him He'll lead you into what you were called or chosen to do. And sometimes He may find you and reveal it when you're not even looking - but that topic is for another time. If you're trying to live a righteous life and trying to follow God you'll be fine.
And that conversation led to this thought
I think everyone is searching for something - searching for something to fill in the void. No one is ever satisfied anymore. We live in a generation where it's all about Me. What can you do to make ME happy. What about ME. What are you going to get ME. ME, ME, ME ME, ME. Everyone is so wrapped up in their own little world that they don't even realize what's going on around them. We live in such a selfish world. I see how many women are single moms and have no help from the father because the dad wanted to live his own life and do his own thing. or vise versa. I hear moms killing their children because they were "too stressed." I hear people killing each other over material things and if they opened up their eyes they'd truly see that material things don't matter. I see how many people play with one another's feelings and manipulate them to get what they want. When I see that all I can think is "What is wrong with you?"
It irritates me to see these things happen. That's why I try to be different and try to teach others to do the same. I don't like hurting people, I don't lie. I'm not at all materialistic and never intend to be. I love to look at the sky and smell the flowers. I love to listen to people vent because instead of talking all the time we should stop and listen. God gave us two ears and one mouth. I wish this world was more loving.....
......This was just a train of thought.
1. What if some of the things in your life are used as impede you to get closer to God, or to find your purpose in life?
2. If No. 1 is true, how do you get rid of these distractions if they are people you love?
3. How will I know my purpose in life?
4. Did you hear about how they want to make it all into one currency
5. Did you hear about that comet.
ETC
I advised my co-worker that it wasn't anything to get worked up about.
I believe in a spiritual realm and do believe in a God and a devil angels and demons. I believe some things are put in your path to hinder you from finding your true purpose, but I also believe that God can remove that certain thing if you ask Him to.
As for your purpose. No one ever knows what their purpose in life is. All I know is that God has plans, and if you're searching Him He'll lead you into what you were called or chosen to do. And sometimes He may find you and reveal it when you're not even looking - but that topic is for another time. If you're trying to live a righteous life and trying to follow God you'll be fine.
And that conversation led to this thought
I think everyone is searching for something - searching for something to fill in the void. No one is ever satisfied anymore. We live in a generation where it's all about Me. What can you do to make ME happy. What about ME. What are you going to get ME. ME, ME, ME ME, ME. Everyone is so wrapped up in their own little world that they don't even realize what's going on around them. We live in such a selfish world. I see how many women are single moms and have no help from the father because the dad wanted to live his own life and do his own thing. or vise versa. I hear moms killing their children because they were "too stressed." I hear people killing each other over material things and if they opened up their eyes they'd truly see that material things don't matter. I see how many people play with one another's feelings and manipulate them to get what they want. When I see that all I can think is "What is wrong with you?"
It irritates me to see these things happen. That's why I try to be different and try to teach others to do the same. I don't like hurting people, I don't lie. I'm not at all materialistic and never intend to be. I love to look at the sky and smell the flowers. I love to listen to people vent because instead of talking all the time we should stop and listen. God gave us two ears and one mouth. I wish this world was more loving.....
......This was just a train of thought.
Between Us
Hey Stranger when may I call you my ownI know I don't know you, but there's somewhere I've seen you before
Whatever your name is
Whatever you do
There's everything between us I'm willing to lose
Just call me, I feel that our paths may collide
I want you to pull me under these darkened skies
Whoever you love now
whoever you kiss
The ones in-between us, I'm willing to miss.
Now I'm drifting out over deep ocean
and the tide it won't take me back in
and these desperate nights I call you again and again
There's a comfort, comfort in things we believe
and I am in danger of wanting the things I can't see
Wherever you live now
Wherever you walk
this distance between us, I'm willing to cross
Now I'm drifting out into deep ocean
and the tide it wont take me back in
and these desperate nights I call you again and again
Now I'm drifting out into deep ocean
and the tide it won't take me back in
and these desperate nights I call you again and again
Hey stranger when may I call you my own
I know I don't know you, but there's somewhere I've seen you before
--One of my favorites from Peter Bradley Adams.
I love this song. It shows how powerful and sweet a love can be. I took a chance like this once. I walked miles in cold rains for him. When he was near death I was the only one next to his bed side holding his hand at the hospital. When ever he felt lower than dirt I went out of my way to cheer him up. We would dance under the moonlight at the beach. He was the only man who I let break through to capture my heart. It was a sweet love that I don't regret. I took a chance. I don't regret it, even if we went our separate ways. I finally got to feel true love.
Peter Bradley Adams, sir, you have done it again. You have me walking down Memory Lane.
Monday, June 25, 2012
My Heart belongs to another man - Descriptive Writing
I avoid his eyes, and with that he knows I've responded. He holds my hand and gives one last attempt. My eyes still have not found his. He begins. His words reflect his heart. The words reach deep inside of me and something comes alive within. He knows the way to my heart. The words become poetic and they drip with the scent of love. I close my eyes. I can feel the warmth of his fingers laced through mine. I inhale every word and guard it in my heart.
He pauses and awaits my answer. I look intently into his eyes. I don't respond.
I unlace my fingers from his and fold the napkin gently back on to the table. I politely dismiss myself. He reclines back in his chair and slumps his shoulder as a sign of defeat.
Once the door behind me closes I begin to run. I run in hopes that I may be able to breathe again. I run in hopes that maybe I'll find an answer to give him.
My legs freeze. I have come to a sharp stop. Like the gentlemen he is he has come after me. I hear him behind me. I can hear his heavy breathing; I can hear his footsteps getting closer. My eyes remain ahead.
I feel the heat of his body. His breathing has found its rhythm once again. He hugs me. The power of his touch is so strong that I have to tightly shut my eyes. He dismisses himself with a kiss to my forehead.
I sit in my car for what seems like hours. Guilt burns like flaming coals over my head. I cannot give orders to my heart. I cannot force my feelings for you when my feelings belong to another man. My heart cannot be yours when my heart lies in the hands of someone else.
I have come to realize, and I hope you know, that I am in the same situation as you.
He pauses and awaits my answer. I look intently into his eyes. I don't respond.
I unlace my fingers from his and fold the napkin gently back on to the table. I politely dismiss myself. He reclines back in his chair and slumps his shoulder as a sign of defeat.
Once the door behind me closes I begin to run. I run in hopes that I may be able to breathe again. I run in hopes that maybe I'll find an answer to give him.
My legs freeze. I have come to a sharp stop. Like the gentlemen he is he has come after me. I hear him behind me. I can hear his heavy breathing; I can hear his footsteps getting closer. My eyes remain ahead.
I feel the heat of his body. His breathing has found its rhythm once again. He hugs me. The power of his touch is so strong that I have to tightly shut my eyes. He dismisses himself with a kiss to my forehead.
I sit in my car for what seems like hours. Guilt burns like flaming coals over my head. I cannot give orders to my heart. I cannot force my feelings for you when my feelings belong to another man. My heart cannot be yours when my heart lies in the hands of someone else.
I have come to realize, and I hope you know, that I am in the same situation as you.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Soldier
Our eyes connect for an instant. I can see your soul. It's full of fear. Mine is no different, but you know this fact. I offer a smirk as a false reassurance that everything is going to be okay, but you can see through me; nonetheless you give it back.
I inhale what could possibly be my last breath. We've reached the battle field. The Valley of Dry Bones. It's filled with fallen soldiers. I head East while you head West.
I see the enemies advancing toward you. They are coming for you. They gather around you like a blanket of stars. My fear turns into courage. I begin to run. I'm running in the night to you.
I run in the night to get you.
I encountered obstacles, but somehow overcame them. I passed through our enemies some who were swift in their skills, some who planned traps so I could fall, some who were astute, but I didn't let them stop me. I kept running. I kept running to get to you.
Did I come too late, my friend? Am I too late?
Your face is downcast. I look into your eyes. Cold. I tap your shoulder but you pull away. I insist but you resist. I tried to carry you over my shoulder like a trained soldier, but you refused my help. You became part of this valley. You became nothing but dry bones.
I inhale what could possibly be my last breath. We've reached the battle field. The Valley of Dry Bones. It's filled with fallen soldiers. I head East while you head West.
I see the enemies advancing toward you. They are coming for you. They gather around you like a blanket of stars. My fear turns into courage. I begin to run. I'm running in the night to you.
I run in the night to get you.
I encountered obstacles, but somehow overcame them. I passed through our enemies some who were swift in their skills, some who planned traps so I could fall, some who were astute, but I didn't let them stop me. I kept running. I kept running to get to you.
Did I come too late, my friend? Am I too late?
Your face is downcast. I look into your eyes. Cold. I tap your shoulder but you pull away. I insist but you resist. I tried to carry you over my shoulder like a trained soldier, but you refused my help. You became part of this valley. You became nothing but dry bones.
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