A Thousand Times

Yes, only in my mind.

The Migraine Chronicles

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A thousand times I tell him goodbye.

In my mind.

Who am I kidding?

He runs through my veins.

If I cut myself open and bled dry,

he would still be with me.

He is my air.

My lungs labor for breaths

when he is not near to filter my pollutants.

He is my Superhero.

Saving me from myself.

The wicked, belittling bitch that I am.

He is my Sunshine.

Warming me, and

shining brightly unto my dullest days.

He is both the loudest

and softest voice in my head.

He keeps me from

going crazy,

yet, is my truest insanity.

And a thousand times

I tell him goodbye.

But only in my mind,

yes, only in my mind.

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Silent Reflection

It hit on the drive home
quite unexpectedly
The enormity of the world
in comparison to you and me

This overwhelming warmth
deep within my  heart
Feeling so close to you
while logistically so far apart

How is it that two people
strangers of place and time
should be lucky to meet each other
through this rhythm and rhyme

How do two hearts connect
with all this interference
in this cold, cold, world
with all this indifference

I catch my breath
my heart skips a beat
silently I reflect
on the meaning of you and me

Return to Neverland

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And so I wait patiently

for I know he will return to me

I snuggle in and close my eyes

I keep my window open wide

Under my pillow I keep a kiss

for my own lost boy, whom I so miss

Hoping his shadow finds a way to my room

I find myself in dreamland soon

“Are those happy thoughts” he wants to know

I nod, so he says “then away we go”

Second star to the right, straight on ’til morning

come fly with me, my Darling

Fly with me to Neverland

where dreams are born, and time is never planned

 

Pixie Dust

dear Peter

I miss the magic

I let it slip away

I grew up

while you continued to play

I miss the magic

I just let it go

the age on my face

yes, it’s starting to show

I miss the magic

between us

you’ll be forever Peter Pan

while I’m still searching for Pixie Dust

One Way Street (a duet with BruisedBelly)

I have always admired Devonne’s writing, art, and musical posts. She has no trouble saying what is on her mind, whether that be calling someone out on their shit, or crying out to a friend in need. Her fearlessness is what first drew my attention, what has kept me coming back time and again, and the reason I knew we would be a great duet team. If you don’t already know her site, please take the time to explore. She is brilliant, and I love her.

northern forest nymph

FU

The girl I was,

the girl you used to know

well I ain’t that girl anymore

No longer content to be

your little doormat

I’ve pulled myself up off the floor

So look me in the eyes

listen carefully

you will no longer drive all over me

I’ve been patient, I’ve been kind,

I’ve been compassionate and sweet

but I grow bored of riding shotgun

down this one way street

Slide on over while I take the wheel

you have become nothing more

than curb appeal

You may have maxed out when you reached forty-five

but this girls got a hemi

and four-wheel drive

This girl’s on the move, she’s moving fast

you and your junker

can kiss my ass

I’ve been patient, I’ve been kind,

I’ve been compassionate and sweet

but now I’m bored of riding shotgun

down this one way street

BruisedBelly over at The Migraine Chronicles was…

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She Knows Him By Heart

The poem remains the same.

The Migraine Chronicles

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She knows him by heart
she has from the start

sure, her eyes have memorized
the curves of his face
and her ears hear
his voice on replay

her body remembers
the warmth of his touch
and her arms miss him
so very much

but it’s her heart
that fills in all the places
in between

the ones that
will never be seen

it’s her heart that knows
his every breath
that reaches for him
while still pulling back

it’s her heart that knows
he’s been here all along
he may be away
but he never is gone

she knows him by heart
both his and hers
it may sound silly
but it’s just how this works

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As The World Turns

“Hello” I say into the phone, not bothering to look at caller ID.

“E-mail sucks” he almost groans.  I smile, he’s correct, I haven’t heard from him in hours.  I was getting nervous, to be honest.

I tell him as much, we chat and laugh and smile.  We are busy, we cannot stay on the phone long.  His world, my world; going one hundred miles a minute parallel to each other, intersecting on rare wonderful occasions.  The moments we live for.

I’m back to my coffee and patients, he’s back to his reports.  The world keeps turning, paying no mind to shit e-mail or moon crossed lovers who can’t go a few hours without conversation.  The world keeps mourning celebrities, abusing their own children and pampering their pets.  The world keeps advancing and falling apart at equal speed.

And me, I just want coffee, I want time with him alone, away from this world, in Neverland or on the moon, either will do.  I’m also open to other suggestions.

 

 

Wonderful Hurt

She loves him more than she knows she probably should

She couldn’t stop now, and she wouldn’t even if she could

Sure, at times the pain cuts deep and draws blood

A price she willingly pays for this love

When it hurts, it’s in the most wonderful way

Her smile starts small, then consumes her face

She prays she hurts this way for eternity

Sometimes you need the pain to be happy

 

 

A Love Story ~ In The Beginning

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In the beginning

She was apprehensive, almost standoffish.  I guess he didn’t notice or didn’t care.  He had his very own agenda which had not one single thing to do with her.  Their bad attitudes just happened to collide.

In the beginning

She thought him to be ignorant, but not in the way that one is not intelligent, she knew he was intelligent.  In the way that one is new to something.  Which he was.  He was new to this world which she was so completely consumed within.  She was both bothered and endeared with his newness.  The endearment stuck.

In the beginning

She tried every one of her tricks to push him away.  He either didn’t notice or didn’t seem to care.  Her heart skipped a beat each and every time he returned.  He seemed to both notice and care because he never stayed gone for very long. This delighted her very much.  An emotion she wasn’t much accustomed to.

In the beginning

She knew they were in big trouble.

 

Sexuality

Yesterday my phone chimed, alerting me of breaking news. “Prince dead at 57”, was the simple statement.

Fade to purple as my mind is filled with thousands upon thousands of song lyrics.

Oh yes I know we have lost too many great musicians this year.  All of them tragic and tremendous losses to the music industry.  Each an icon in their own right.  And now, The Purple One has been taken from us.  My heart is heavy indeed.

For myself Prince’s music was indeed The Revolution.  The sexual revolution.  Up until I heard his Controversy album I liked music, some forms of course better than others; but still, music was for listening to, maybe on occasion dancing.  You see I was a teenager in the Shaun Cassidy, Andy Gibb time frame, and for a kid like me that was fine for Teen magazines but not really exciting musically.  I was a bit of a rebel and to my parent’s dismay I would sneak in some Queen and Alice Cooper.  Still not the same, still just music for me.  I hadn’t found “my” grove yet.

Then one Friday night I was staying at a friends house and her sister played Prince’s Controversy Album.  That was it for me.  It took me someplace music had never taken me before.  I felt it.  I felt it in my nipples and in my thighs. I felt it tingling in my fingers and glinting in my eyes.  It made me bite my lip and catch my breath.  Music did this to me.  It was wonderful.  I really didn’t understand the idea of sexy, but I knew that this is what it felt like.  This music made me feel sexy, and I liked it.  That weekend I bought myself a copy of  1999 and played it every chance I could.  I was hooked.  I had no idea who Prince was, but I was hooked.

So of course when Purple Rain the movie came out I had to go see it.  I was very surprised by the appearance of Prince.  He was very petite and almost feminine.  Oh, but he had that soft shy sexy smile that grabbed you and didn’t let you go.  You wanted to hold him, comfort him, and do naughty things with him all at the same time.  It was a very odd feeling.

All of my boy friends were very manly and in fact thought Prince’s music was too feminine.  I think it was a stigmata at that point in time.  I think it was fear.  For me, it was a sexual revolution.  Finding my own grove through music.  A grove that awakened my sexy side, my inquisitive side, my musical style.  It was a game changer for me, to feel the music.  I am forever indebted to Prince and his Revolution.

Thank You Prince, you will be missed.

 

 

Easy Breezy

I can feel how wet I am

as I think of him

as a spring breeze blows up my dress

God I love spring breezes

I love thinking of him

how he makes my panties wet

and my nipples stand erect under this light dress

I lean back and spread my legs

the warm breeze rushes in

I fantasize it’s him

Some young punk passes me by

he dares to look me in the eye

I giggle

throw a wink his way

He keeps walking, unamused

he has nothing to say

I lean back

letting the breeze have it’s way with me

it’s spring,

it’s gorgeous,

and this is my fantasy

Traditionally Speaking

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Kicking tradition to the side of road

he sings me a tune that I really should know

he changes the words to suit his own needs

I smile and giggle, as we do what we please

The week has been long, the month longer still

yet sitting here next to him, I’ve got time just kill

Throwing tradition right out the window

I tell him I love him, he says “yep, I know”

Traditionally speaking we don’t stand a chance

but neither of us care about pomp and circumstance

We do it Our way, rituals and customs thrown out

Each day a new adventure

because that’s what WE are about

 

 

Dream Lovers

A long (but not) forgotten lover joined my dream without invitation Friday evening.

I was initially displeased to see his face.  Which is odd, as I’m generally pleased to see his face.  Friday night however, he didn’t belong.  He was uninvited, and moreover, unwelcome.  I said as much to the invited guest in my dream.  In fact he is the one who alerted me of “his” presence.  Which was crazy weird, since they don’t know each other.  But hey, a dream is a dream.

My invited guest said “hey, look who is here”, I looked and said “what is he doing here?”  to which my guest replied “I don’t know, this is your dream”, he had a decent point, even my dream-self thought so and rolled her eyes at him.  So I walked over to said uninvited guest, who even thought he did not “belong” in my dream.  I started to ask him “what are you doing here?”, but just as I opened my mouth, he asked me “what are you doing here?”, which was crazy, because it’s my fucking dream!

At this point in my dream I hear the very familiar voice of a mutual friend of mine and said uninvited guest, she chimes in “oh, for goodness sake, both of you get over yourselves and hug already!”  We both (he and I) look over at her (here I will interject that she is a lifelong dear friend of mine, whom he slept with after our breakup) and we say in harmony “what are you doing here?”  She laughs, and I will add she has one of the most beautiful laughs of anyone I know, and says “I need a beer”!  Did I mention, I’m completely in love with her, in the way you can love only a lifelong friend.

I awkwardly hug my uninvited guest, I hug my dear friend even harder and leave those two to drink a beer.  I turn back to my invited guest, kiss him passionately, and ask, “does this seem really weird to you?” he replies “Baby, it’s your dream, I’m just glad I belong here.”  I’m glad he knows he belongs here.  In my dreams and in my life.

 

In a Galaxy far, far away

Weekends Suck!

He and I are in two different galaxies

I’m going to punch the next person who says

TGIF to me

They don’t know

they don’t understand the pain it brings

how lonely Saturday and Sunday can be

how I long for Monday morning alarm clock rings

The sun is shinning and it’s 70 degrees

but my mind is in a far, far away galaxy

A Love Story 04152016

The first time he saw me naked he commented about a tiny freckle on the outside of my knee.

Who notices freckles on knees?

He does, I don’t, or rather didn’t.

I didn’t notice it, had no idea what he was talking about.  He’s crazy.

The other morning as I was applying a generous amount of morning body lotion, I rubbed over a little freckle on the outside of my left knee.  I smiled out loud and said “oh, there you are.”  Don’t worry, the freckle did not reply back, but I am petty sure I heard a gentle “I told you so” whisper in my ear.

He notices freckles, and I remember the moments he does.

 

Like A Dream

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You have left me breathless once more

naked, stretched out on the floor

satisfied smile still upon my lips

as your fingers trace over my hips

And it feels like a beautiful dream

completely tangible, yet unseen

your face blurry before my eyes

your seed still dripping from my thighs

I kiss you with the rising sun

The night may be through

but the dream has just begun