regret

Things are not always as they seem.

An old man, his gait unwieldy and back bent, barks at two teenagers across the street. As the ruffians scurry off into the distance, he hangs his head in shame, recalling the memory of his stillborn daughter. The pent-up rage has built up inside of him over the years, with no clear target or means of escape.

Three doors down, almost close enough to smell her perfume, a brunette in a yellow dress embraces a beaming man in plaid. Unbeknownst to him, only minutes ago she kissed her beau farewell as her husband's familiar flannel shirt entered the foyer.

Through the upstairs window of their pristine abode, beyond their close-knit forms - already indistinguishable from each other - one can see a woman peering down from the balcony next door. By all appearances content, cooing softly to her young charges (luckily in her care only for the day), the surrogate mother seems lost in thought.

On closer inspection, however, one might catch a glimpse of wistfulness in her otherwise neutral eyes, perhaps noting that they have ceased to sparkle when she smiles. They are seen less and less often with each day that passes.

Nostalgia for a life once lived - and for the person she used to be, before she knew the ways of the world - burrows its way through the clay that is her brain, whispering empty promises to the deep recesses of her mind.

If only for some semblance of unfettered appreciation, sans bells, whistles, or strings, the honorary matriarch takes on job after job. Spreading herself thin, like butter over too much bread, she overfills her life - pushing herself to the utmost limit - until every possible cup runneth over.

What she seeks, however, lies not in academia. Nor does it reside behind a desk or within a cubicle. The sheer bliss of unconditional love, even just some acknowledgement of a life well lived, an emotion perfectly expressed, is her nourishment. Her sustenance.

Unfortunately, she has spent her entire life in a famine.

seeds

emptiness engulfs me,
flooding every orifice,
until nothing is left
except long-forgotten thoughts
and dreams dashed to pieces
on the jagged cliffs below.

fear and self-doubt
crouch below the drop off,
on the outskirts of my mind,
waiting for the right moment to
strike, and break my heart once more,
from the inside, as usual.

a frail organ, it barely beats,
not wanting to appear overeager
in its desire for another taste
of that sweet requited love,
which it cast away on a whim.

confusion reigns supreme in this heart of hearts,
having never known anything but loneliness,
but somehow the seeds of truth have begun to
sprout, pushing their way out of the dark soil,
and rearing their marvelously ugly heads.

armed with the cold, hard truth
that is true love, the real thing,
the heart - unable to contain itself -
bursts...

...rendering it useless yet again.

what can you do with love?
hope for the best and let the
other party take it from there.

inception

tracing the bridge of his nose
with the tip of her index finger,
the warmth rises from his
recently dampened skin and
incites a smile within her.

closer is never enough as he pulls her in,
commingling their deep inhalations.
inch by inch she draws near,
and yet still remains just out of
the reach of his embrace.

as the night opens up around them,
they bask in its sheer potential,
letting it roil between their bodies
like the ever growing floods
outside their open window.

cocooning her in the headiness,
the lust-filled air barely visible,
he seems to stare deep inside of her
and coaxes her secrets out of the
alcoves of her heart.

deeper and deeper he goes,
spelunking within her mind,
navigating tangents as well as
discovering the true inception of
their mutual adoration.

as hard as it is to let herself go,
it is more difficult still to let him
out of her sight, let alone her heart.
she can stand it no longer when she realizes
the two of them were meant for each other.

sadder still, the truth has yet to be revealed,
making the longing between them all the stronger.

later on that night,
after she has left her lover
(for good this time, she tells herself again)
she cries herself to sleep.

lying in bed with her husband, she
see herself as an absolute stranger.

certainty

I slowly soak in a claw-foot tub,
wrapping my mind around
the doubts holding me back
from a life I could lead
if I just let go of my fear.

reminiscing about the near past,
my mind wanders in circles,
the labyrinthine maze of emotions
sending me back to the drawing board
of my life.

nothing is as it appears to be,
love is negligible and certainty is scarce.
my heart rests on a fine line
between freedom and belonging.
commitment can be a tall order...

letting the suds warm me to the core,
I drift away into a place where
nothing changes for the worse -
dreams are accomplished and
childhood heroes no longer disappoint.

knowing that my own love is true,
the only thing in this world that is certain,
helps me to finally overcome my fears
and let go of the inner chains holding me fast
to a part of the past that no longer applies.

tension

sitting on opposite ends
of the same scratchy couch,
we eye each other tentatively
as the night wears on

pointed looks turn to caresses
as the party fills up with guests
we hardly notice the change
and instead have eyes
only for each other.

punch drunk with lust,
reeling from the tension
in the air, over our heads
waiting to settle on top of us

aided by the night air,
we fit each other so well
breathing in and out,
together as one

if only for the night.

agathokakological

out of balance with morality,

coming to terms with
my own desires and urges
ignorant of the nuances
within my inner workings.

an impossible task,
digging deeper inside
where nothing is left
but raw emotions
and animal instincts.

tearing out my hair,
scratching at my eyes,
letting loose all the
darkness inside of me.

as the white light
engulfs my mind,
black clouds gather,
ready to enshroud
that which is my life.

forever fighting,
neither good nor evil
ever prevails completely.

satisfaction

you never let me in
always holding me at bay
an arm's length away

to make that compromise
within myself
I must
let go of the desire
that makes me ache,
forever longing
reaching out for more.

living life in the moment,
blocking out the past
not dreaming of the future,
but letting it happen
on its own terms.

rolling around together
in the hay of life
yet somehow, still,
I can't get that
satisfaction
you seem content
to live without.

why should i have to
give up intimacy
in lieu of love?

in the darkness,
I sit alone
with my thoughts,
letting them wrap me up
completely and utterly,
the way you never will.