Parallel Lives

Needles are nothing.  Pierce my heart with your blade and I might wake up to watch.  I feel it.  There’s just no pain.  Not yet.  You’re trying to sew strings and make me your marionette?  Proving to be more difficult than you expected...the string turns pieces of me to dust; before, there was at least the outline of a hollow heart.  You are making only a hollow vessel instead.  Shadows will take my place, standing where you tried to tie me into pieces for you.   Is it ownership you want?  Or just a new way to stay entertained, when needed.  It won’t dance for you; it certainly won’t sing.  Just what is it that you want it to do?  Empty veins won’t drown the noise when nothing spills from inside.  Detonating them open won’t allow you to swallow your screams in my blood.  I. am. empty. One eye opened for you, that is all.  Mostly from suspicion and expectant malice.  That you will find inside....

  Walk Long...for you, by me. Once, there was a time when innocence reigned like droplets of water falling from the skies, washing away the mire from our eyes. On parallel streets, walking parallel directions, two children played with hope in their hearts, waiting for love to take its place. While walking along in these parallel lives, a rock thrown, a knee scraped, and a cry of loneliness seemingly go unheard. The children grew, mostly under the stars, ashamed of public view. Inside their chest a rot had formed from negligence and misuse. They hadn’t known that without love, they too could turn so cruel. The sun began to provide them pain, the streets ran empty when their feet were mobile, and alone they sought respite in the shadows of themselves. Cold, it didn’t nip at them; heat, it didn’t sway their movement seeking shade. Wind only evened their eyesight with others as dust and dirt erupted into the sight of strangers. Storms drowned the peace around them to make them feel at ...

Making memories is an important part of any relationship, be it family, or friends, or a lover.  I have beautiful memories which fill both my mind and heart of the life I have lived until now.  Sometimes, though, there is a shift if your path, and the memories begin to feel like dreams, and the dreams begin to get cloudy, and clouds begin to fade away.   My great shift happened about seven years ago.  An ex of mine died and the only thing I could see was darkness.  Only storm clouds cover my days now.  Happy days, pleasant memories, are harder to come by because they are seen through a filter of thunderstorms and decay.  To me, now, the temporary state of everything ruins the joy that can be hidden inside of it.  Sometimes, the people around you refuse to believe that an event like this can alter your entire perception of life, largely, because it didn't affect them at all.  Well, being struck by the permanency of death in an instant is ...

Everything comes in threes.  The good, the bad, the ugly.  The Stooges.  Symmetry with any kind of a centerpiece.  Meals.  Death.  Oh, I know, you think I'm going to dive right into the gory details of the three deaths that brought he and I together.  But you're wrong.  We deserve to be looked upon with love before the judgement expels us from your lives.  It took three weeks before one of us said three words, I love you.  And I'm pretty sure we were both equally shocked and equally not shocked at all.   This love which permeates our life now, sneaked up to us like a cheetah in a jungle, quiet, easy, silent, and seemingly sudden, but looking back, we realize, the grass was moving all along.  There was never a word exchanged that didn't have a hint of joy, a new blanket's worth of comfort, a history all its own.  Three weeks, and my life was now the opposite of what it had been for so many years. It doesn't matter whic...

Introduction:  This is not a love story.  It’s not really a story at all.  It’s just life.  Life from a perspective few people ever get the chance to see, words one rarely has access to; that is, through the eyes and lips of a convicted murderer, and the woman who loves him. Keep an open mind; many will say it’s just too crazy to be true, but with my mind open, I managed to find happiness where no one else was looking.   Once upon a time, life was easy.  Lives were had, work was done, babies were born, children were reared for family business, elders died, and such was the cycle of life.  It was short and it was simple.  But that was long before you or I ever stepped foot in it.  Each generation besieges new conquests and typically gives up on them before the mountain crest is ever within range of sight.  Few will peak, and fewer will conquer.  Most get lost trying to trace a former’s footprints; many die through lack of prepar...