Snow Globe

It’s a whirlwind sort of place, my mind.  A mixture of chaos and marble stillness, it holds every dream and wish I could possibly create.  Just around every bend is another budding impossibility.  An unattainable desire that can never be fulfilled but constantly screams to be heard.  Tucked quietly behind, lay my fears.   Nestled in the dark corners surrounded by the maddening shouts of the extreme, they wait patiently to be overcome or better yet, walled away so completely that they disappear behind the chaos of the surrounding whimsy.  Filling every open space is my imagination.  A constantly shifting cloud of colors, it whirls through every thought and deed, sprinkling every experience with a splash of childlike innocence that makes life seem just a little bit more rosy.  Always changing and moving, my mind is a perpetual visit to a snow globe of glittering inspirations.

A Daydream

Bring on the passion.  Show me nights rich with old fashioned romance that would be the envy of any damsel from history’s long memory.  Create a day that pales night’s most vivid dreams and makes me wish for time to freeze just so I can experience it a little bit longer.  It’s not much that I ask, just magic. Magic in the form of starry-eyed young lovers that are lost in each other in the most heartfelt ways.  Surely a knight such as yourself can create delight without weighing it down with frenzy and can give me the enchantment that I so desire.  Show me my fairytale and provide me with a champion of my imaginings.

Exit

An exit strategy is what you need.  A quick and clean departure through well lit doors that pave the way to social freedom.  Escape from the cold windowless cell that bears your day-to-day resentments and step into the warm outdoors where options seem limitless.  Make a plan and set your eyes on the outlet.  The technicalities are mere bumps in the road and can be overcome with a certain amount of commitment to be a bit stronger when life requires it.   Without taking that leap into the brightly lit exterior, you are destined to fade into the shadows as the light inside you dies. 

A Reflection

It’s through a funhouse mirror that I see myself.  A collection of reality and fantasy that creates a picture that is impossible to recreate in real life, yet somehow I hold myself to standards that are nearly unattainable.  My mind says that I should be able to handle everything that is thrown my way, all the while smiling as though life is easy.  Fight through stress and frustration without showing the cracks that reveal my sensitivities that I hide close to my core.  It’s always the perfection that I seek, both in my psyche and in my physical presence.  A return to the days when thoughts and words flowed from my mind with a gentle ease that others envied.  The reclaiming of a spirit that knew no boundaries and saw all limitations as a chance to prove how much I could accomplish.  Hidden amongst my blurred reflection, such qualities still exist, but have yet to push their way into my distorted view.  It’s the stable clear image that I require in this land of circus freak likenesses.

Phoenix

From the ashes of love long dormant, a pristine moment prospers in the light of a newly formed fire.  A counter to the world of boundaries and limitations, this creation breathes freedom into the spirits of the ensnared victims of mature sensibilities.  Without shattering the sturdy frame of their sound existence, they are given a chance to temporarily break away from the steadfast solid ground and give themselves over to the swirling winds of uncertainty that float high into the unknown as smoke from a flame that once again has begun to burn.   

My Beautiful Anya

Joyful jubilance bubbles forth in giggling madness; eyes wide with innocence and hope. Unscarred by life’s sharp edges, she shines with a vibrancy that cannot be created; only radiated by one true of heart and spirit.  Each new day opens with a clean slate.  The past is a fog and the future never comes.  Every step is on a shimmering magic carpet that only ends at the farthest reach of her imagination.  All covering a heart that knows only love and gives it freely as if like breathing. 

A Letter

A long time ago when my days were new and my years fewer, I gave you my heart.  Sure, it was the wild carefree heart of a bird, but it was given absolutely.  From that first tender instant I knew I would forever have you in my world.  Regardless of the distance, both in miles and in emotion, and in spite of my unwillingness to acknowledge it, part of me always belonged to you. 

It’s in the quiet lingering moments when it all comes rushing back to me.  The butterflies in my stomach, the rumbling in my heart, the heat in my mind…  It’s like stepping back in time, but instead of the frantic rush of emotion that blinded me as a child, I feel a sense of comfort that things are back as they are meant to be. 

You, the one who loved me through my faults and flakiness, were always a steady presence in my life.  You created in me the idea that I deserved the best.  Taught me that I should be valued, appreciated, loved without trepidation.  And in doing so, made me expect such things from all who drew near.   I thank you truly for that.

Today I reach a point of acknowledgment instead of resolution.   It’s not about deciding to care, but rather admitting that I do.  The ache when you pull away confirms what has always been quietly true.  Just as my heart was given as a youth, it’s still dwells firmly in the palm of your hand and I see little chance that that will ever vary.

Just be gentle…

Run

Instinct says run.  All the signs are clear in their intent.  Disappointment, hurt, things that are not supposed to be present, loom overhead, blocking out the sparkling sky, leaving only desperate stinging darkness.  Like a wounded animal, retreat to safety and forget a clearly impossible task.  It is not worth shattering what currently exists in the hopes of creating a stronger connection that may never materialize.

An Analogy

Compare it to having a pet squirrel.  You lay out some seeds and coax it out.  It may visit you very day and might even eventually let you touch it.  But it never truly belongs.  Every night it is called back to the wild.  The squirrel has no real attachment to you, only the treats you share.  If the neighbor were to offer a better fare, it would be gone.

Better to befriend a stray cat.  Their loyalty is fluid and follows the affection that they are given.  Love them and they will stay true, just be warned that when your attention to them wanes, so will their allegiances. 

Perfection

I had a dream last night.  It led me to a place of fantasy and wish fulfillment that made it difficult to let go of in the dawn.  It began with a journey into the dark with an intent to find a place of lonely peace.  A soft blanket on the ground and a million stars in the sky set the scene.   “No pressure, no obligation, simply be.”  Always so concerned, always protecting.  A gentle touch that fuels a deep rooted passion explodes in an instant.  Cares are lost to the darkness and worries cease to exist.  It’s just the stars, both in the sky and in the act.  In the simplest of actions, perfection finds itself and time stops.  I close my eyes, drifting under the twinkling sky and awaken with the crack of dawn.

Expiration Date

I am content in my role of being “of the moment,” but at the time feel confined by the knowledge that part of me must stay locked away, protected from the hurt of knowing that I carry an expiration date that limits my value. It’s the “for now” that troubles me. How do I let go when the possibilities of replacement hover in the background, just waiting for the slightest misstep?  How quickly does your mind pass from one to another?  I want so much to feel along with experience, yet fear seizes my heart the moment it begins to weaken.  There is no quick solution to this dilemma, only a request.  Give me my moment. In my time, forget all others and be mine.  Forget my expiration and pretend that we have eternity and perhaps what tangles my heart can drop away and allow me to believe.  

So Sappy...

I miss you...

Bipolar?

You can’t imagine what its like to see the world through my heart and eyes. What others see as dingy and typical, I see as glorious and new. Each item glows with an intensity that makes it pulsate with life. Bright pastels pour from every cell creating a fog of mystery and magic that encompasses all who stand near. One cannot help but to be romanced by the possibilities of all that surrounds us. But illusions all must have their boundaries.  Every glowing feature also bears a warning.  Tiny sharp thorns wrap their tentacles around every moment creating a peril that is often not seen until the damage has been completed.  Every step must be carefully placed in order to avoid the devastatingly beautiful snares that constantly drag you down. Without losing yourself in a field of lunacy, you can’t even begin to understand what it means to dance through life bearing the magical veil that I possess.

Trouble

I was safe.  No harm would come from my direction.  I meant it when I spoke those words.  I truly believed that history had died and with it died any chance of resurrection.  Funny how innocently wrong we can be.  In just a blink, sleeping demons awaken and bring with them a comfortable turmoil that slides in to place just as it had never left.  The part of me that I had always assumed had faded away was merely waiting, patiently, for the opportunity to breathe again.  

Guts

Somewhere there exists a place where my world can meet with what’s in my mind.  Everything I dream, fantasize, wish for, can find its feet in a solid world.  Instead of wandering through life with my eyes closed, I can see my thoughts played out before me in a grand demonstration of what could be.  

Sharing

Bewildered, she clutches her prize close to her chest.  Like a three year old unwilling to share, she wishes to be the sole owner of such a gift.  To some, sharing never comes easy.  Value seems to fade away when resting in the hands of another.  Somehow tainted, it becomes a mere object in place of a treasure.  To her, worth comes in the form of possession.  By passing the gift into the hands of another she destroys what makes the entity so powerful to begin with.  The moment it leaves her grasp, her heart deadens to its existence and she vows never to hold it near again.  

Bungee Jumping

Toes on the edge,

Peering over, the ground seems miles away

My heart quickens, my breath weakens,

I leap, eyes wide open to the possibilities

There is always the chance of failure

Of doom, ending, slamming into the rapidly approaching land

It’s the rush of maybe that makes it all exhilarating

To fall knowing that you may not fly is freeing

I plunge into a cloud of oblivion

In my mind...

It begins with a kiss, not of the lips but the minds, touching soft and sweet, more a greeting than a precursor to the events to come.  Their sharp eyes already envision the possibilities of the evening, but patiently settle into an ease that always begins their adventure.  This time almost serves as a test.  Is this real? Fantasy?  A trial before the reward? 

It is the escape that is the most exciting.  A quiet exit to a night full of stars and tight embraces.  Minds giving way to lips and hands and heat.  A frenzied time constrained eclipse of reality that always seems to end just a minute too soon.  

Their conclusion is not sad, but hopeful.  Their time, however fleeting,  will come again.  They will once more find their place at the start of too brief of a night.

Should have stayed home

While I wished for an eve of smiles and warmth I was instead greeted with a cold breeze that seemed to peel my sparkly skin clean away.  Naked and unprotected, the thorns that would normally fall weakly at my sides suddenly find my most tender of points and create tears that were never meant to exist.  It is dangerous and weak to allow such vulnerability, but impossible to avoid if trust is allowed to exist.  Better to have avoided the hurt and buried myself in imaginary embraces.  

A Spark

All that remains from the fiery blaze is the cooling ash that lies dormant where once something solid stood. The spark has faded and the remnants continue to cool with each passing day; gradually leaving nothing but a shell that can crumble with the gentlest of breezes.   Starved for energy, the ruins have no choice but to die and pray for a chance to live again when passion has once again revisited this quiet resting place.  

Always

I smile and melt into the fondest of memories.  Shades from the past cloud my eyes and fill my mind with wonderfully rich images of times that have long been gone.  Wrapped in a blanket of yesterday’s promises, I lose myself in the history of the words.    

A Dare

When you see what you want, take it.  Follow through on the many thoughts in your mind and take that leap.  Worry less about the consequences and instead immerse yourself in the delight of the reward.  Forget social niceties and leave this land of black and white behind.  Live in technicolor and let fantasy be reality.

Doubts

Am I alone in my yearning?  I often feel that when I whisper into the darkness, the only response is the echo of my own naive words. So difficult to believe, to trust.  Always second guessing my place. Though it pains me, I question every caress.  I wonder how many of those lovely words are scripted and how many truly own their meaning.  Am I just a placeholder, keeping a busy mind occupied? A substitute for what was left behind?  I continue to wander blindly through this maze of uncertainties.

Why?

Because a single touch creates a fire that takes days to extinguish. 

Because sanctuary seems so innate in your arms. 

Because everything seems a bit more vivid when you are near.  

Because I see more in your eyes then you know you possess. 

Because sometimes dreams are meant to be lived.

A Challenge

Reclaim that which has been devalued. Let affection be full of adoration and respect, tenderness and trust. Cast off the weights of obligation and return to the times of the past.  Such a feat is difficult, but not impossible.  There still exists in this world people who believe in purity of connections and do not wish the sully the most intimate of moments.  

Wind

A gentle breeze through a gilded cage brings relief to a long-suffering prisoner.  As she drifts through, she carries with her a glimpse of what resides beyond those bars.  She whispers of passion and joy and gently caresses his face as she swirls through his confined reality.  Sadly, she cannot stay.  Only allowed these fleeting visits, she must continue on, leaving in her trail an echo of tender freedom that can only sustain a lonely prisoner for mere moments in time.    

Descent

The leaves on an autumn tree began to crisp and wither as the warm summer sun fades into the horizon.  Without the tenderness of the sun’s long outstretched arms, the leaf struggles to hang on.  Each passing cool breeze threatens to end the leaf’s brief existence and endanger the chance that it will hang on for another day.  Its gentle descent is inevitable and expected, but still poignant.  If only the summer sun had not moved on, the tree will still be bursting with life.

Goodnight

You cannot force a dream and have it be true to heart.  Such attempts create poor substitutes that reek of stale fantasies that were created to be used with others.  Recycling of this manner is both foul and disturbing and drains my senses of both energy and inspiration.  I crave the real, the true, I want to know that thoughts of me steal their way into your mind and leave a path of unfulfilled desires and constant cravings that beg to be fed. I want the dreams you create to be mine and not just echoes from a past with another.  Spare me your manufactured tales and instead let the silence win out.  Perhaps the emptiness will tempt your appetite and reawaken fantasies that are genuine.

Truth

Wouldn’t it be great if we could stop time for even the briefest of instants?  For just a moment we could live life consequence free.  No obligations, no obstacles, just freedom to do what called to us in our most private of dreams.  What chances would you take?  Would you stick to the routine of things or would you just do whatever called to you the loudest?  Would you spend your time wreaking havoc on your enemies, holding your dearest love or caressing the object of your carnal desires? In that one gift of a moment, how would you choose to consume your time? 

A Reaction

I’m not your broken doll that is in need of repair.  I do not need you to teach me or guide me or rescue me from myself.  Do not try to mold me into some sort of figurine that is a mockery of who I really am.  I am smart and strong.  I have my own identity and am quite secure in who I am.  I will not be trained in to filling whatever role you see fit to have in your life.  I am more than that.    

The Deed

Sex is the currency of the modern age. A commodity used for power and control; its value only determined by what you receive in return. Freedom, adventure, status, acceptance, forgiveness, love; all can be bought by a simple romp in the sheets. Long forgotten are the days of romance and courtly love, they have been replaced by haste and obligation. Once held at such a value that men would die to have it and women would wait forever to give it, it has now found its place among the most functional of actions instead of the most honored.

Jealousy

It’s a unique situation when you have to come to grips with sharing something that doesn’t belong to you in the first place.  To know that your place is so easily exchanged can be weakening.  How could it not?  Your voice is just one of a chorus and your touch can be duplicated by another.  Of course it’s naïve to assume that it would be any different, but it’s heart wrenching to have it confirmed.   

Blind

I can’t imagine what it is like to live in the dark; void of color and beauty, only filled with shadows of what is supposed to be.  That supreme loneliness would tear holes in an already fragile spirit.

The Messenger

I watch and wait.  Just as staring at a picture of a long awaited excursion gives it’s traveler hope, this image offers me a sense of peace and comfort.  Do not see my patient lingering as a sign of weakness or worse, lunacy.  It is simply a reminder of dreams and wishes that are normally lost at the first light of dawn.  Without even a word, that image transports me back to the deep valleys of my mind where hungry monsters sleep with ears standing tall, awaiting a cue to attack.  That presence offers a path to escape, to explore, and to feed.  It silently calls them to their feet and urges them to run instead of continuing to fade into nonexistence.  Without it, they sink into the quiet darkness, muffled by the distraction of the great beyond.  So I wait, all the while beginning to doubt my own sanity as I become the prisoner of a list that holds the only connection I have to my most intimate demons.

A Request

"Trust me,” she asks, she requests, she pleads.  The irony of the situation is not lost on her.  How do you trust one that by definition of her role proves to be a liar?  How do you see past that to the part of her that is gleaming with virtue?  Some can’t, many won’t.  With her whole heart she hopes that he will try.  She needs him to know that while her shell might be tarnished, her core is pure and she will never betray him in either spirit or actions.  Her loyalty is total and complete, with no chains attached or coded rules to follow; as her sincere intentions are only to support and encourage him and to perhaps eventually be there for him to confide in without fear of consequence or judgment.

“Trust me,” she asks.

Circus Wire

It’s a carefully balanced path that I follow. Stretched tight between what-if and maybes, I cautiously pace out my journey through life’s great adventures.  

An Addiction

My drug overwhelms me. It’s fantastic purity is the essence of what makes men go mad. No promises of grandeur, no guarantee of wish fulfillment; simple and primal self-satisfaction. In that moment of consumption, the consequences mean little. The fog of indulgence serves a worthy purpose of hiding future failures. The total and complete loss of restraint can take the blame for so many deeds. Without even trying, I have made myself an addict of my own indulgence. I close my eyes to any chance of recovery, even more, I would shun such an offer. Allow me this sin. Allow me this transgression. For sobering virtue could hardly match up to this kind of bliss.