I love you the way waves merge upon the shore. Slowly absorbing grains wrap each drop in their embrace as the sun bears down with unending grace. Each wave drifts away, pulled by fate, the dampened sand which became their trace. Every ripple outlined on land as if drawn by some divine hand. Twice a day those waves kiss the sand. Twice. Throughout time love knows no other vice. Eternal hope – each wave returns. Eternal patience – land waits and burns, beaneath the sun.
Love is never done.
Your eyes are their own universe. Each glimmer a distant galaxy shimmering with its own gravity. Your pupils the black hole you hide behind surrounded by your secrets. I see a glint of you at the top corner. You’re peeking out from stacked blackened blankets because you want to know just as much as you want to be known.
I could look in your eyes for ages and never grow bored. Just as a child is mesmerized at the waves that tickle their toes and at the horizon that never ends. Your eyes are as deep as the ocean’s blue. The currents swirl unpredictably powered by the mind behind it. I love tracing the lines around your eyes and wonder how many people drowned there.
I look at you and I am breathless. My heart catches in my throat and I realize, I’m choking on your waves crashing against my shore. Your smile is my horizon, the sun appearing off the coast allowing me to see another day.
Your eyes are the key to your soul, and your soul is endless. Through your guidance I can see the world as nothing more than eternal connections betwixt man and plant and goat and sky. We are the heavens and we are the hell. We are all the ocean and we are all the earth. Through your eyes I see the countless stars twinkling inside.
Don’t ever lose that light.
The way I see someone I love passing is I gave them all the love I possessed. I provided for them best I could. I helped make their life as pleasant as possible. I tried to shelter them from the cruelty of the world. Their life had meaning and they will live eternally inside me because their impression, the mark they made on me, means they will never die so long as I continue on in their memory. Happily. Through me, they live. They experience what I experience. That chocolate milkshake I drank for lunch? So did my loved ones. And I bet they enjoyed it more than I did. That beautiful photograph I took? They awed at it even louder than I could. They are in a peaceful place away from the death, the pain, the merciless depth of the world. And I couldn’t wish for more.
Anxiety is not nervousness when surrounded by a crowd. Anxiety is not preferring to stay home rather than going out at night. Anxiety is shivering when it’s 90 degrees outside, rocking back and forth in the safety of your house with every door and window locked and lights off so you can hide in the anonymity of the dark. Anxiety is vomiting and diarrhea at the thought of changing your daily routine because your body wants to expel everything filling your being until you’re too weak to leave. Anxiety is stumbling over words and stuttering through phrases because your mind is too busy imagining how quickly things could go badly. Anxiety is always knowing the worst case scenario where you and everyone else dies in some horrid fashion. Anxiety is forcing yourself to see any good, any positive, at all in a person or situation. Positivity does not come naturally with anxiety. Positivity is an hourly struggle as the anxiety wraps around your throat and squeezes each breath out until you are gasping for hope. Any hope. Anxiety is a smog tainting your atmosphere forcing your blooms to wilt and trunks to hollow until you are nothing but the fear inside.
Anxiety is not a work of fiction nor is it some casual term to use on a Thursday night when you’re an hour late to turn in a paper and two hours late for a date you thought you’d have time for.
Anxiety is a war. The battles rage inside where they are hidden from public eye. A constantly rushing mind reminding the limbs to always be prepared to fight or flight. Heart racing, chest pains, body aches, too skinny to sustain warmth and too tired to try.
Anxiety: the silent killer.
There’s something satisfying in a touch. The warmth of his being pressing against my skin. I feel him growing close before he ever touches my skin. I’ve waited a lifetime to feel him again.
“Let me in”
His face nuzzling my palm as if I am a refreshing pool on a midsummer’s night. I want to wrap myself around him as a river does the fish.
“Fall into me”
Our noses touch and eye lashes flutter past each other as butterfly wings tickling the sky with playful kisses.
His nose cool and wet against my warm and dry. Balance. Beauty in the combination of two opposites combined.
Rough skin and cool nails find my hand. Gently resting atop my skin I feel the wind dance with his hair so it tickles my skin.
There’s something satisfying in a touch. His pulse against mind. Our bodies breathing as one. I his mother. He my son. Connected through love, more powerful than blood.
“Love me”
And I do.
Neon lights gleam advertising various liquors appealing to the crowd through local team names and hot spots. The bar surface is sticky and cool beneath my palms, rough enough to dance with the hills and valleys etched across the skin. Low, bass notes interrupted by melodic singing fill the silence providing a background for my mind to rest upon.
“Do you want anything to drink? My treat.”
A soft smile breaks through the evening haze. Do I want a drink? Neurons fire rapidly demanding the sweet elixir to pass betwixt rosy lips and slither downwards through bowels to assuage their addiction. But is it addiction to the alcohol or to the relaxation accompanying it? Does it matter?
Lips are moistened nervously. Eyes glance around. Will anyone here judge if the offer were declined? Are they judging now?
Bass beats increase tempo throbbing against furiously working brain cells. The few remaining. Society dictates a certain social standard regarding liquor consumption. Depending on age, sex, location, society narrates every drop swallowed.
I should drink.
Grinning lips and sparkling teeth fold beneath the weight of impatience. Brain cells scurry even quicker across slippery floors freshly waxed with intelligence. An answer is required. Now.
But I’m scared.
Eyes close. Deep breath. Even the atmosphere hangs heavy in a drunken stupor. Does anyone here know what’s happening around them? The way the lights play across skin, across nook and cranny. Beauty in the darkest of places.
Breathe.
“No, I’m not much of a drinker.” A lie. Or is it? Wanting to drink and drinking are two different things entirely. One abstract restrained behind bars of civility, and the other painfully visible to appease society.
Those smiling eyes and glistening teeth grow dark. Shoulder blades replace their welcomed warmth and bartender speak fills the air.
My mind leans back against that familiar bass beat.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?”
Eyes look upwards. The atmosphere thickens desiring fellows in it’s heavy – eyed, slurred speech state. Why enter a bar and not partake of the time old tradition of drinking one too many just past one too many and groaning over work while bitching about ex lovers? Breathe.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
Eyes disappear ducking behind shadowy reservations and drink menus. The music quiets behind the lull of thoughts and miniature catastrophes.
Why am I here?
Shining beacon in the sky,
Emitting life from your light.
Radiant arms stretching down,
Spreading joy without sound.
Reigning supreme during day,
Successful in every way.
An orb rises opposing sun,
Glowing brightly with sun done.
Smaller twinkling companions rise,
Watching the world with blinking eyes.
Sun meets this orb’s gaze,
It moves him in unspeakable ways.
For her to live, sun must die –
He takes a breath and dives.
Without sun peeking through,
Moon’s strength soon grew.
She lived fully all night long,
Until she heard Sun’s lovely song.
Moon quietly asked him “why?”
To which the sun replied,
“Your beauty reigns supreme.
Living without it means nothing to me.”
The moon drifted to sleep as the sun grew bright,
Spending all day craving her light.
Each night the Sun sacrificed his life,
So the Moon could live throughout the night.
He loved her so much he died each night,
Just so the world could see her light.
The way your fiery locks doth wave
Send trembles through the cave
Shaking walls that forever shall crave
Your sharp witted mind and piercing gaze-
Until, the grave.
You’re a fox, I’m the hound
Pure wolf on the prowl
Careful little one
When I find you, I howl
Beware the sound
Once I catch your scent
I’ll become relentless
Don’t test this
Patience of the hunter
Thrill of the hunt
Driven by the hunger
I shall find you, my hunted
Once captured, here you’ll stay
Beside me forever you shall lay
My wolffish grin first thing you’ll see
Each morning you’re with me
I hear music drift upon the wind
Let me lend a helping hand
I part my lips and sing a long
Increasing our song by ten men strong
The world should hear such a symphony
Created when your heart met me
Our music melds so easily
I never imagined merging, occurring so peacefully
As our chords strike against the odds
I feel a yearning ache within my quads
Travel calls my name out loud
I am beckoned despite my rainless cloud
With such sentimental, poetic tokens
I wonder if your resolve has yet broken
SingsWithWolves 