Persistence
“Sleep,” she whispered, as she closed her hand around his. “I’ll watch the moon, the stars, I’ll watch over you.” He regarded her with his sad, brown eyes. “I don’t know why you’re doing this,” he spoke slowly. “I don’t deserve what I can’t give back.”
She concealed the hurt that struck her as he spoke those words. She knew. She knew full well it would always be a sad story of what might have been, had luck not betrayed her. “You don’t have to say it,” she said softly, the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. “Someone once told me that if I cared with everything I had,” she continued as he began to drift off to sleep, “it would not matter if I received anything in return.”
He sighed in contentment at his encounter with slumber, barely hearing her words. Nobody looked at him the way she did. From the beginning, she was well aware that time was not on her side. Fate did not recognize her situation, & did not provide her tokens of aid.
“Good night,” he mumbled, turning his back on her to face the open window. As he did, his grip on her fingers loosened, & he let go.
“Sleep,” she stared up at the sky, eyes fighting back tears, “when you wake, I’ll still be here.”
Because all she could do now was accept defeat & let him be.
Still, she did not leave.
“You don’t have to.” She looked at him in surprise, thinking that he was fast asleep all along. He turned toward her, & she forced a smile. Those eyes, God they were so beautiful. Subdued, yet magnetic. She could only torture herself with thoughts of how nice it must be if any time, she would be permitted to look into those eyes.
“Don’t have to what?” she answered calmly.
“You must have things to take care of. Better things to do, than … Stay.” His voice was sleepy, but his actions showed awkwardness. He toyed with the now raveling thread on the pillow he held.
“No, I don’t.” It was a simple answer. She couldn’t think of anything else to respond with.
He smiled faintly, & snuggled down the covers, ready to go to sleep once more. She forced one last smile before he closed his eyes.
“I don’t have anything else. There simply isn’t anything I would rather do than stay … Stay with you,” she thought sadly.
She leaned back & shut her eyes, & the tears began to trickle down her face.
He never wanted her.
He never needed her.
He appreciated her, yes, but that was it.
& she knew that wouldn’t be enough.
Cat-string theory
Pandora’s box placed in clear view.
Bound by lock & key, yet in full display. The tireless, the hopeful … they search for hours on end. They scour through the clutter, all the places, to get a hold of the right key. Once, twice, a wrong key disappoints.
She has it. Dangling from a single strand of burnt gold around her neck, she seizes the key. Should she? They stare at her, as she walks slowly toward the box. Whispers, & warnings fill the air. She regards them with fearful eyes as she slowly reveals the key held so dearly in her palm.
With evident nervousness, & a trace of anticipation, she aims the key toward the lock, closer & closer with every second. The silence, the deafening silence, now broken by the sound of a solid click. A perfect fit. Hushed tones of awe compliment the tension of the moment. Her gaze remains fixed on the beautiful box, carved so intricately with torturous beauty.
The key, held by a chain, stays fixed on the lock. A single twist to change everything. She gingerly lifts the cover, the poetic slow reveal.
Things. They begin flying out gracefully, circling above every creature in the room, like an inviting dance. Awestruck, all eyes are transfixed.
An illusion that seemed so real moves toward her, still graceful, still so perfect. Her hands slowly lift toward it as it nears her. Slowly, very slowly, it dances on the very palm of her hands.
With the same pace, her fingers begin to close around it in delight. “What luck!” she thinks to herself in glee. Around her are envious stares.
It was nothing like she ever felt before.
She closes her eyes, a mixture of wonder & contentment. Her imagination turns infinite … It was an oasis in the Sahara, it was a lighthouse amidst a storm. Like a renewed vow, like lovers reunited. “Star crossed lovers…” like literature in solitude.
& then suddenly, the room is still. Dim, quiet, cold.
She opens in her eyes in confusion, & sees the box in full view, wide open. It is now empty, meaningless. She looks up, only to see the magic has disappeared. She glances down on her hands. Nothing. In it, she holds nothing.
An amount of time saved up so carefully, in anticipation of a moment to relish. A risk took so hesitantly, in hope of difference & bliss.
The lock & key are still one.
But the moment she once savored so delicately, so foolishly, turned out to be yet another illusion. It barely lasted. She barely understood. She only felt.
& it faded to nothing without as much of a warning.
People are foolish creatures. They are mere toys of Eros, dangled teasingly in the eyes of the longing, only to be snatched back in haste, moments before finally being held.
Distracted.
Steal.
A glance, a heart,
a world, a memory.
Hold.
A hand, a secret,
a gaze, a story.
Think.
Of sunsets, of waves,
Of letters, of books.
Remember.
A time, a place,
countless stolen looks.
Avoid.
Regret, mistake.
Tears, heart break.
Relive.
New days, new moons.
Sunrise, as you wake.
Release.
Hurt, sadness,
anguish, pain.
Forget.
The face, the words,
the feelings, the name.
Somewhere lies a haiku.
“I could write, & I’d do it well without stopping;
simply because it would give me something to do.
He could take me places & make me laugh;
but I’d still be wishing he was you.
I could go somewhere far, far away.
I could toss aside every other memory.
I could, you know, if I really wanted to.
but you’re all these eyes choose to see.
I will always be unfinished
like the poem I tried so hard to write.
Things would always be difficult
but I would always try to fight.
Every line would be a reminder
of the sweetest mistake there is.
& each track played back in repeat
will prove how it’s you I often miss.
These outstretched arms, they would tirelessly wait -
as time goes so torturous, here she lies, broken.
Every new day would only be a painful reminder;
the rain rhythmically dropping with every word unspoken.”
I write this free verse.
I dedicate words to you.
Again I will write.
Tonight I shall dream of you.
Dedication
.
Swayed by sweet words, whisked away by whispers. Rocked by that familiar song, & an even more familiar touch. A downfall, a drug, a weakness.
It’s like liquor. Sitting in a glass, stared at intently. Held gingerly toward one’s mouth, slowly brought closer. As it’s rim touches my lips, I take a cautious sip. The warmth, the strength, it slides down my throat. A burning sensation, that delights me. Another sip, another encounter with pleasure. I pace myself, as I sit back, & take in an ambiance so beautiful that I can’t help but bask in the moment. Certainly making room for more. Another sip, more carelessly this time. A glass or more, & I’ve figured it out - there is something magnetic, undeniably addictive.
Like a broken record.
I am drawn to this set up. It excites me, confuses me, invites me.
I’m treading on rocky territory once more. This is, as hard as it is for me to admit, danger zone. I myself cannot fathom how stubborn I am; how persistent this is, & why the hell I always end up giving in. What is it? Why? All questions just end up falling into a void of nothingness. No answers, just musings - endless ones.
I don’t want to end up drowning in regret, but I wouldn’t want to be like those people who live the saying “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.” Does that make sense? Or is it as maddening as I think it is? Sometimes I wish certain things never took place. Certain people should never have came into my life in the first place. Then I’d be calm, content. However, these things, they happen for reasons we may not always (or never) fully understand. Things we learn from, rise above, look back on.
I’m hoping this is just “one of those days” wherein I’m letting nostalgic thoughts get to the best of me. However, if this isn’t, then all I can do is to perhaps cross my fingers & hope once more for some clarity. Just a little, just to get by.
I want to point fingers. Blame. Is it a song? A person? A word, an action? Whatever it is that rendered me so clueless - I want to know.
Will it be alright?
Or will I be secretly content with the entirety of the puzzle unsolved?
Persuasion.
In a sea of distress
In a manic-depressive state
In a secret world of chaos
In a battle of love & hate
I will take your hand & fight the horrific scene.
I will hold you near & shield you from the endless bad dream.
In a road of shattered hopes
In a room filled with darkness
In a place full of abandonment
In a valley of utter madness
I will stand before the car crash & conceal your view.
I will stay close by, we’ll not look behind, I’m with you.
In a world of selfishness & pride
In a world of animosity & hatred
In a world of nothing but broken dreams
In a world of people rendered jaded
I will sing to you softly, I will rock you to sleep.
I will keep you in these arms, kiss you while you weep.
In a secret place only we know
In a hidden spot with silence & clarity
In a car driving toward a road less traveled
In a quiet room we can claim as territory
I will be your anchor, I’ll keep you afloat without fear.
I will be. I simply will be anything,
just to always have you near.
Untold.
Imagine how she felt the first time she saw him.
He was just another guy, going about, doing the usual everyday things. She was not your average girl, but she’d been looped into categories & looped into stereotypes constantly by those around her. She knew she wasn’t supposed to care, but deep down she did. She constantly longed for acceptance - the kind that was good for her wavering self-esteem.
When she saw him, she became thoughtful. She thought to herself, “He’s interesting in a way most guys are not.” So she tried. Something in her was drawn to him. Something inside her was waiting for an introduction. A bridge to connect their worlds apart personalities. “I wonder,” she thought to herself, “what kind of person he is.” It was the curiosity that got to the best of her.
There she was, walking, lost in her music & her poetry. There he stood, silent, brooding, alone. There they were. In one spot, but the distance was evident. The kind only their minds knew & understood.
Would he believe how great his impact was on her?
Days of conversations deemed incognito. Late hours spent lost in thought. Minutes ticking by with every track played, analyzed, felt. Books read & re-read, in hopes of finding even just a morsel of meaning.
The days turned into weeks, the late hours turned to dawn. Conversations mattered to her immensely. Still, she couldn’t figure him out. What was he thinking? Is this what he really is? Is he purposely concealing a certain part of him?
Whatever it was, she wanted more.
What he couldn’t possibly give her.
Was it fear? Hesitance? Or was it simply nothing? Until the months flew by. Conversations turned from lively to awkward. Deep, to meaningless.
Then the inevitable happened - the silence that she knew meant it wasn’t right. It wasn’t a connection that could push through. It was a fleeting moment.
Once it was beautiful. Once it meant a lot to her. Now it was simply lifeless. Not knowing, never knowing, what it was he saw. What it meant, if it did at all.
Imagine how he made her feel.
How he raised her up unknowingly just to knock her down again.
What a fool she was, she couldn’t help but curse herself. She honestly believed. She hoped in a way young girls wouldn’t. She wrote - poured her heart out, as she filled pages & pages. She was, as foolish as always. Naive, vulnerable.
You could say she was a dreamer …
That much was clear. But what he was, she knew, was a let down. Another reminder of how harsh things could be when they took a turn for the worst. What he was, was something alright. Something only she saw, & secretly loved & wanted to keep.
What she was? She was broken. It was yet again another secret she struggled to keep, or to forget.
Like a love letter tucked away in a drawer.
Both complex, both constantly lost in thought. What were they, really?
Questions. Empty words. Unfinished business.
She knew she had to push away those persistent thoughts, as difficult as it was to do so.
“After all,” she thought. “He dismissed thoughts of me aside like it was the easiest task in the world.”
Rhyme
Your heart breaks a little every time.
His eyes glance over when you’re not aware.
Your hands shake a little at his nearness.
His head turns a little, to see you standing there.
You pretend you’re unaffected.
He’s mastered the move so well.
You turn your back in defiance.
He sees you, he knows, & he can tell.
You walk past him, barely looking.
He notices, but he remains unmoving.
You struggle to regain composure.
While he goes back to what he’s doing.
You stay as far away as you can.
He goes wherever he pleases.
You wonder why he’s so difficult.
He somehow broke you to pieces.
You wonder why he has that power.
His mind barely thinks of you & what you do.
You continue to fight this losing battle.
His heart still can’t seem to beat for you.
“Amour, d'espoir, d'inspirer..”
Alissa Isabel Gaskell | Create Your Badge
