Awriterorsomething
9/10/2011
Why
Because you died.
Because you left when I least expected,
Because the day and the nights are just not the same.
Why
Because you’re not here
Because you and I don’t talk
Because there is no you with me anymore.
Why
Because there are no conversations
Because there are no quiet times
Because life is just this way
Why
Because things just are that way
Because there is crazy in this world
Because you were there and I was here
Why
Because you were where you belonged
Because I was where I had to be
Because there will always be confusion.
Why
Because there will always be questions that go un answered
Because not everything can be known
Because you died
Why?
Why?
Because
9/4/2011
The sharing of the dream and the look in your eyes, the softness of your voice and the honesty of your smile. The gentle touch and the slight tremble. The time spent just looking, just talking. The care and the caress and the lightest of touches.
The sparkle and the laughter and the slightly silly questions. The eyes cast to the side and the embarrassed glances. The awkward pause and the rush of words and the fumbling to say it right. The music in the background that suddenly invades and the scattering of thought. The accidental touch and the sigh.
The reluctance to leave and the abrupt starts and sudden stops. The touch again the touch and the softness of the evenings fading light. The desire, the need, and the passion hidden within.
The sharing and the dream and what I see when I look at you and the softness in my voice when I speak with you. The slightest tremble, the lightest touch. The time spent longing, just longing.
The sweetest, lightest kiss and the look in your eyes, the softness of our voices as we say goodbye. The drifting as if dreaming and the sharing of the dreams.
9/4/2011
Do not show me again, I know, I saw, I do not need to see again. Do not make me go through this again, I lived it, I relive it, every day I breathe it, I do not need to go through it again with you. I will not visit the hallowed grounds, my memories have never left them.
Do not tell me the names again, I know the names, I see the faces, I know them I knew them, I haven’t the strength to meet them again. I will not look on their names. My memories hold on to their names deeper than they can be engraved in black granite.
I cannot face the images and hear the sounds. I cannot go through this again and again and have my night haunted again and again. I will not watch your shows or read your special issues. It plays in my mind every day. I will not watch your film, my memories hold images sharper than your pictures.
Do not mark this day on my calendar. I have never forgotten. I don’t need to stop and observe that which I have seen in my sleep, in my waking hours, in my moments of rest, in my times of work.
I cannot start to grieve again.
I have never stopped.
9/1/2011
I know what you hide behind your angel plastered walls and the songs that echo along the way and the lyrics that disguise the truth. I know the time that you spend in darkness, carefully cloaked against the light. I understand the reasons and I have helped you in your lies.
I know the paths that you have marked in code along the body cobbled alleyways and the secrets that the doorways hold and the muffled sounds within. I know the places that you go when hiding away is what you need. I understand your reasons and have sworn in blood to your alibis.
I know the lies that make up the only truths in your decorated existence, and the way you have painted the pictures that form your gilded life. I know you still see the images you have covered over with the smoke and the resins of the bridges you have burned. I know the reasons and I helped you start the fires.
You know the reasons that I hide behind these brick and mortar walls and build for me carefully constructed lies. You know my reasons and you keep them hidden for me.
3/5/2011
Fighting again, you said.
Fighting again, you said again. Fighting still and fighting more and angry words were spoken.
Fighting again, you said.
Fighting again, you said again. Angry tones and harsh expressions you said.
Just as before, fighting again.
Hard to remember you said.
Hard to remember when it was easy to remember sweet words and delicate touches. Hard to remember the days when it was love again and again.
Hard to remember gentle tones and soft embraces.
Just as before, hard to remember again.
Alone again, you said.
Alone again, you said again. Sitting lonely in empty rooms, each sound amplified by the echo off bare walls. Hollow and empty you said again.
Alone again, you said again, in an empty room in an empty house.
Just as before, you said, alone again.
Fighting again, you said, but you never say why.
You never understood, you said again. Why did we fight again.
Why the angry tones, why the harsh expression you asked.
No clue you said, no clue you said again.
Just as before, no clue again
Crying again I see.
I see you crying again.
Crying in the empty rooms, remembering the fights but not the love.
You are crying again. Crying still and crying more, I hear the anguished tones and desperate expressions.
Just as before, I hear them again.
Fighting yourself again, I see.
I see you fighting yourself again.
Nothing can I offer you I say to you again. Nothing I can do to help you again.
Just as before, I can only watch you cry again.
7/1/2011
All I know is all the things you said to me and all the things you meant when you were next to me. All I understand are the things you made clear to me and all the things you claimed when you were here with me.
All I see is what you have shown to me and all the sights that you have allowed me to see. Everything I say I say because you said them for me and I hear your voice when you are far away from me.
I see the stars you have made for me and the space and time that you freed for me. I wonder now at all that you have done for me and all the things that you think you have done to me. I see the truth but it’s not the same truth that you see and I wonder if the time has come to be free of me.
I hear all the music you have played with me and the rhythm of the drums you gave to me. I play along but I cannot hear the melody. Other sounds have taken a hold of me.
I walk along the paths that you have cleared for me and I wonder if the path is clear to see. I want to make this plain but plain is much too vague for me. Shadows and fog make for the best of me.
All I can do is what you let me do. I haven’t had the chance to do what I want to do. I dance the steps you have taught to me and I stumble when I haven’t you here to lead me.
The few things I know you have heard from me. I wonder now if you see the other me.
It didn’t’ have to be this way; you know it and so do I. The words I heard and the words you said should have been the same. But the words I heard and the words you said turned me to anger and to hate.
It didn’t have to be this way; I know it now I guess. The feeling felt and the meanings meant did not have to clash. But what I felt and what you meant slammed together in my mind.
It didn’t have to be this way, I tried to deny it but I failed. I saw your extended hand as a slap, when you wanted to caress and my reaction was one of pain. My reflex was one of hurt; your intent was to love.
It didn’t have to be this way, it wasn’t meant to be. It should have been a day of relief but turned to fright and flight and fear. Your embrace felt like a prisons straps and not a lovers grasp.
It didn’t have to be this way; I know it now for sure. I only ask that you give me time to hear and see and feel so it can be the way it should have been.
4/23/2011
Late night Saturdays I think of the yesterdays I will never see again. I think about the people then and the days now. The memories lost, the fortunes never found, the places left empty.
Late Night Saturdays I think not of the coming Sunday but the Fridays past. I listen to the notes of songs long ago forgotten, poems never written, love never tasted.
Late Night Saturdays I think of the roads now overgrown and the paths never cut. I look at pictures of gatherings, surrounded by people unknown, parties not remembered.
Late Night Saturdays I think about the trips taken to nowhere, dances never danced, music never played. I wonder aloud about plans never considered, never risked.
Late Night Saturdays, while the rest of the house sleeps, I type. I look for meanings missed, secrets unrevealed, traps not sprung. I ask questions, expecting no answers.
Late Night Saturdays I am finding nothing, expecting to see directions, looking at the empty mirror.
Where was I then?
I know where I should have been and where I thought I was but I looked around and I was gone. I couldn’t find the shadow of the place I thought was there.
I heard the voices and I saw the people but I do not recall the place and truly, I don’t remember the time. I looked around and I was gone.
Where were you then?
I know where you might have been and I thought that you were but I looked around and you were gone. I found your shadow near me but I cannot remember what we did.
I remember the look on your face but not a word of what was said or a notion of the sights that we saw. I looked around and you were gone.
Where was I then?
I am sure I was there, you told me I was. Were you there as well or was that just the memory I had wished for? There was music played without form and lyrics missing words. The dancers had grace but wouldn’t move. I am sure I should remember more but I am sure I remember less than the dusty memories say I do.
Where were you then?
I am sure you were there, you told me you were. Where were you placed? Was it right where I looked or was it where I thought you would be? Was the music clear to you and did you see the ballet?
I am trying to understand where I was then. Were you there as well? Or was it only a memory of a place we never went.
bAdverse 