Poem: Simple Does It

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I’m a simple creature,

I’ll never need material things, 

When I state my simplest of wants, I mean what I mean when I say it’s the physical things,

It’s the smile across the room after a joke has been cracked, 

It’s the teasing comeback and the snort of humor that came after,

It’s the raised eyebrows in question when you tap your nose in reply,

It’s speaking the same language but never having to explain why, 

It’s feeling your body physically relax in the presence of a safe soul,

It’s realizing you’ve been so tense after witnessing their peace, 

It’s enjoying the silence or laughing up at the moon,

It’s conversations that flow one upon another until it’s late and time stands still,

It’s the ease, the laughter, the understanding,

.

So at the end of the day, you didn’t just misunderstand me,

You just forgot how too.

I wasn’t hard to love or unwilling to try; you gave up your chances by forgetting it was me who stood by your side,

I told you I’d leave if you ever disrespected me,

And when you did it,

It killed me.

.

I’m not hard to love,

You just became hard to hold when everything began to break. 

Poetry: Blissful Reticence

Writing Prompt: Do not put out your fire because someone else doesn't understand your flame.

Song: Demons by Jacob Lee

Where others have faltered, you did not,

You reached past the scars and through the dark,

Your nimble fingers navigate without pause along my very existence,

No hesitation in your touch, not a delay in your stride,

You stroked the bits of me I tend to hide,

My darkness you accepted along with your own,

You traced my scars and made me feel seen,

You placed a healing balm on the cuts in between,

With words so soft and acceptance so calm,

You made my pain-weary soul hum to your voice as if it were a sacred Psalm.

WP: Head In The Clouds

 Writing Prompt: Write a scene in which a character's last words are: I find peace in the rain.

From the POV of Madi from my work in progress: Looks Like That.

Song: Head In The Clouds by Hyde

 

Trusting my gut is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

 I've read every article, asked every one of my questions, and researched the topic until I'm no closer to trusting myself than I have come to truly trust in human nature. Trusting others is more manageable even though there's more probability they'll break me. I'll blindly throw my trust out like a life preserver for others to grab and drown in my sorrow before I trust myself. 

 It's a vicious process I wish I could understand, but I've failed thus far to shake the ground beneath my weary feet.

Sure, I can blame the abuse, blame the change in the tides, the weather, or the simple act of human nature doing what it was hard-wired to do. To survive. I could also blame survival, lay blame at the feet of my mother, or throw blame into the wind and hope it sticks to something. Yet now, in all the realities I've lived in my head, I'm afraid all the blame is on me. On me holding on to this archaic belief system I was raised on, if you could call my upbringing being raised. 

 I guess I don't trust myself or my gut instincts because, many times, they have steered me wrong or right. Still, the simple fact is, is that I didn't rightly know if I was feeling an actual feeling or if I was stuck somewhere else, in the past, holding onto the last shred of hope. Was I experiencing a pang of the present, or was it the gut punch of the past? Was I entirely in my present, or did my nervous system slip back into the cold winters from years ago? Was I clutching my red string of fate, or was it the blood-red snow in my shaking hand?

 I couldn't be sure, I could never be sure, even as I sat in the rain, staring at the bobbing of umbrellas in the distance at the park entrance. Reality was what reality was, but the reality in which I found myself sitting was rather dull and damp and convoluted with outdated thoughts, thoughts I was sure I had healed long ago. This is why I didn't trust my gut because it made me run. It made me run, made me numb, and made everything on my body drag me down because I failed to feel the rain saturating me straight through to my soul until I was heavy. 

 I blame my blind panic, then, if I could blame anything at all for the shitty reality, I find myself in. Even with the jumbled mess of emotions rioting inside my veins or with the heaviness I find myself draped across a park bench, soaked head to toe, I find a sad peace in being weighed down. Like a balloon tethered to society, my head in the clouds, I find a mellow kind of peace in the violence of the rain as it washes my tears away. With no one around to fake the happiness I don't feel, I can be free to express the emotional wreck inside of me versus holding it just under the surface of false hope and faulty gut instincts. 

 A shiver creeps up my spine as I straighten up, looking side to side before I roll my head back and close my eyes, letting the rain wash over all of the pain I had held onto. Why I ran, I had no idea, but inside, it had made sense; as my sure-footed feet slapped at the pavement, it all had been clear, but now? Running made no sense. Slipping out unnoticed did nothing but make my heart heavy; creeping across the hall on tiptoes and ducking in between rain gear passersby like a ghost made me weak with grief. Was I to be stuck in this constant battle of past and present? Was this to be my future? Sitting in the summer rain, head tilted to the sky as grief and years of pent-up sadness mixed and mingled with raindrops? Was I destined to feel this sad time and time again?

 If my gut instinct was right, we'd be here for a little while longer.

 

 I guess, then, it's lucky for me that I find peace in the rain.

WP: Every Side Of You

 Writing Prompt:  Describe the iris of a loved one when sunlight hits it.

Written from the POV of Madi from my work in progress: Looks Like Us.

 Song: Every Side Of You- Vance Joy

I see it.

 It’s as if every bit of that look is amplified threefold inside my body, like a zing flowing straight through my bloodstream to my heart, my toes, and every single thought I’ve had of you. 

 I see what you mean to say, like it’s the morning dew forming a sentence on your lips. No words need to be spoken because it’s there in your amber eyes, as quiet as a whisper but as loud as thunder in my soul. The whiskey depths of your eyes have me losing my grip on the reality I had clung to in hopes of not being pushed out into your seas.

 But that’s the thing. 

 I see it; clearly, me losing my hold and being perfectly all right with drowning in that effervescent amber haze. Lost in the crinkle of your cheeks, the warmth in your gaze, and the hold in which I lose myself before ever having touched you, confuses me in ways I could never have fathomed. I would let loose my grip on reality in order to get lost in my thoughts of you if that meant I could be with you.

 Each time our gazes lock, I can’t tear myself away; I want more, need more. The thought of drowning is more pleasant than living in the mundane. In your eyes, I see something I’ve never witnessed in this life, a warm and gentle cradle of promise I’ve felt once, twice before. It’s like we’ve traveled across time and space and ended up here in this place, two souls floundering for the same foot purchase and connecting at the right time. You were the dream I dreamt, and never did I think it would be you in the great divine we find ourselves in; it’s funny that we met where we did. As inconvenient as it was, I realized it was the right time for our souls to clash, for my memories to slide into place, and for my earthly body to find home in your arms. In your eyes, I see the swirl of a life before this; in my soul, I feel the love we had and that we will have, even if it has its ups and downs. Fate stepped in that day, and since then, I haven’t been able to dig myself out of the amber depths I willingly sacrifice myself to. If your eyes were wild, I’d lose myself forever down the path it led me down. I’d submit myself to the pain of brambles, the sharpness of the rocks under my palms, and the fears of the unknown if it meant being with you until my last breath. 

 In the light of day, it’s worse for me because your eyes radiate this multifaceted gem of hope; like Tigers Eye, it has me entranced in the depth of your soul, clearly visible from your gaze as you look straight into my broken soul. Like a balm, your gaze soothes the burns, the cuts, and the hurt from the past and gives me a taste of the healing elixir of hope. In your eyes, I’ve found a faith I’d long ago lost trust in, but in you, I see a peace I forgot about. In your sparkling whiskey depths, I find a soothing place to rest my world-weary soul without a worry of more harm to be done; in you, I see a breath of fresh air I’d been desperately gasping for.

 In your sunlit eyes and the silent ‘O’ of your lips, I see the promise of what could be, and I hold on to that tether of security, of hope, that lovely whiskey ray of sunshine because, without that little bit of red string, I wouldn’t know where I would be.

 I’d be lost at these relentlessly weathered seas, no hold to be had or preserver to her held. So if all I ever get in this lifetime is that look in your eye, I’d count myself blessed because knowing you is well worth not having held you.