Close My Eyes and Forget

I don’t know how to let this go; I don’t know how to deal with this. It steals my words and paralyzes my heart. I sit here and listen to the radio play in the background, I don’t know what to think anymore. So I give myself an alternate reality. I lose myself in thought; maybe when I come back this mess will all be gone. But it is wishful thinking. Day after day I live with the same thoughts, maybe if I shared them I could work through them, and maybe I couldn't  I just don’t know. My life is a question mark, my existence not tangible. My days are like unto a dream fading. Losing sleep, doubting myself, doubting the existence of love. If someone says they love you and yet treats you with no respect and as if you were just an object to possess and control, how can I be expected to have a pure description of love? It is like an elusive bird that flits here and there to tall branches, waiting until your hand stretches out to touch it, and then flitting away again. So I’ll just sit down in this tall grass and try to think of happy things, maybe I’ll just dream here until I die. Maybe I’ll push all these memories away and never let them crowd in again; forget these days and forget these faces. I feel as if I was on the precipice of an immeasurable canyon, looking over, standing on the very edge, leaning over, numb to the pain, numb to the fear or falling, numb to the knowledge that death is pulling at my heart and hand. What would it feel like to step off, to just let go and never remember?

Half Asleep

A thread of morning light peaked underneath the edge of the sheets, and a hint of a rain-infused air tickled her nose. The silence of the early morning crept into her heart, rocking her into those sweet dreams again. The breeze lifted the curtains into a billowing cloud and the door handle turned; the floor squeaked under his step. As he opened the door cautiously and peaked in he heard a step coming around the corner. Wary, he stepped inside her room and shut the door, not wanting to be seen. Ear to the door, he listened until the footsteps died away. It was then that he turned and noticed her. Deep in dreams, she smiled in her sleep. Her long curls were draped over her shoulders and framed her face softly. Her small form was curled up on her side- completely relaxed- completely asleep. His feet carried him to the side of her bed; he so longed to reach out and touch her- to reach out and hold her. He brushed the hair from her eyes and stooped to kiss her cheek. He was such a fool; why had he given her up?
As the door scraped shut behind him her eyes flickered and she yawned and stretched. Was that kiss a dream? She must not think of him; there was no use breaking her heart over the impossible. But she knew deep down that he would be the only one she could ever love, she just tried to forget that that was true.

A Craving for Chocolate Cake

A lull of voices drifts in from another room, and it feels like another world. Like it’s somewhere I’m separated from, like something I’ll never know for myself. The clock ticks steadily on; across the room the face never changes, the hands never cease their steady rhythm. My window is dark but I can faintly see a star twinkling in the distance; I wish it were summer and the crickets were out, and the air cooled to a pleasant breeze. I remember those days when I would sit outside and just listen to the crickets- listen to the birds that sing in the night- the sound of insects buzzing and the smell of fresh-cut grass. But my imagination fails me, and the poignancy of those memories evaporate all too quickly. And here I am again, sitting here in this quiet. No wind, no crickets, no stars. Just me and the quiet; the lull of the voices in the background. And a craving for chocolate cake.