06-06-2013, 06:42 AM
Blurring the lines of past and present, I lay facing the ceiling.
A wave rushes over me, bringing tears to my eyes; yet I am not sad.
I see memories flash before my eyes with a rapid speed, a tumultuous journey through my teen years, hurtling me forward.
How much I would give to relive those scary and uncertain years just once more.
Just give me one more chance to feel… for in this age I cannot feel any emotion but numbness.
My heart is no longer hopeful and no longer skips a beat when thoughts of love waft through my mind like wispy clouds of perfume, whispering phrases I can’t quite make out.
I feel as though I’m choking, on rot and regret.
Who have I become and when did I lose that blighting innocence of youth?
My skin no longer a dewy and sensual creation, my hair no longer falling in silken waves. I’m trapped now, time has imprisoned me and is taking me away from my former beauty.. Insistent on stealing more of my soul.
There must be some key in the past, some answer, some reason. Why is it eluding me so?
When he and I parted I felt so desolate, despite the fact that he was a stranger in time’s eyes.. to my body he was well known and very welcome.
I tasted the salty tears as I lay in the quiet stillness of the house.
I craved the warm and earthly scent of his skin, the nearness of his breath moving the fine hairs on the back of my neck.
The sky was gray, dawn was near and prying eyes would soon make these intriguing feelings disappear.
Once weeks had passed, he appeared just as time had suggested all along, a stranger, a passerby.
In front of everyone’s eyes he knew this was the way to regale me.
He knew our secret could not be shared, he wasn't even certain if any of it ever happened; for the lucid and dream like quality of our meeting.
Although his energy belied him, I could still sense the electricity crackling from his hands.. the deep and longing want, to trace his warm fingers down the side of my silken face.
He was not so much older, but old enough that when he left he took a piece of me with him that is irretrievable and left a pumping heart in it’s place.
I was discarded, left to blow away in the wind and with no one who would look back and see me flailing along the freezing gusts in the trees.
I pictured his ice blue gaze as I tried to capture myself like sand sliding through my fingers. And what is left now? Tiny grains that I placed inside a locket and keep close to my heart. Quite puzzling, mystical how melancholy I am for my young self.
A wave rushes over me, bringing tears to my eyes; yet I am not sad.
I see memories flash before my eyes with a rapid speed, a tumultuous journey through my teen years, hurtling me forward.
How much I would give to relive those scary and uncertain years just once more.
Just give me one more chance to feel… for in this age I cannot feel any emotion but numbness.
My heart is no longer hopeful and no longer skips a beat when thoughts of love waft through my mind like wispy clouds of perfume, whispering phrases I can’t quite make out.
I feel as though I’m choking, on rot and regret.
Who have I become and when did I lose that blighting innocence of youth?
My skin no longer a dewy and sensual creation, my hair no longer falling in silken waves. I’m trapped now, time has imprisoned me and is taking me away from my former beauty.. Insistent on stealing more of my soul.
There must be some key in the past, some answer, some reason. Why is it eluding me so?
When he and I parted I felt so desolate, despite the fact that he was a stranger in time’s eyes.. to my body he was well known and very welcome.
I tasted the salty tears as I lay in the quiet stillness of the house.
I craved the warm and earthly scent of his skin, the nearness of his breath moving the fine hairs on the back of my neck.
The sky was gray, dawn was near and prying eyes would soon make these intriguing feelings disappear.
Once weeks had passed, he appeared just as time had suggested all along, a stranger, a passerby.
In front of everyone’s eyes he knew this was the way to regale me.
He knew our secret could not be shared, he wasn't even certain if any of it ever happened; for the lucid and dream like quality of our meeting.
Although his energy belied him, I could still sense the electricity crackling from his hands.. the deep and longing want, to trace his warm fingers down the side of my silken face.
He was not so much older, but old enough that when he left he took a piece of me with him that is irretrievable and left a pumping heart in it’s place.
I was discarded, left to blow away in the wind and with no one who would look back and see me flailing along the freezing gusts in the trees.
I pictured his ice blue gaze as I tried to capture myself like sand sliding through my fingers. And what is left now? Tiny grains that I placed inside a locket and keep close to my heart. Quite puzzling, mystical how melancholy I am for my young self.