Sitting,
staring at cracks in the wall.
A chime,
three chimes, then back to alone.
Motivation
escapes everything but my eyes.
This hammer of doubt has crippled my hands
again.
At a quarter to four I wake
uninspired.
Ink
won’t take to paper.
Mind
wont take to caring. Fingers frozen.
tap tap tap..tap tap tap…
Shit.
tap tap tap
sitting,
starting at the cracks in the wall.
Deep-pooling, pillow eyes
steadily scanning the surroundings.
Crouching-
like a great beast
calmly breathing long confident pulls, piercing the chest.
Trusting prey, hypnotized, stands solidly
hoping to change circumstances by opening up.
Mind and body tingles in anticipation.
There, joining…
the hunt echoes off stucco
revealing sweet emotion, crumbling solid barries
touching trusting nerve endings.
Intimate details reverberate in her ear
pounding into a locked vault behind turning key
remember- one mind.
Details of secrets shared .
Heartbreak
crumbles like glaciers in pieces
proving climate change
to non believers.
Piercing shards of ice- cold
frigid
emotion
unfixed puzzle pieces
falling.
She lied, rather omitted the truth
it should have been acknowledged-
Who am I to demand transparency
its been years since we were intertwined.
I think I’m important, yes- ego.
Aren’t we all vulnerable and use it as a
warm blanket to hide the truth?
It covers me from the elements
so I wont feel.
I see you out there
pondering over every line I write
laboring over loops of letters and
consciously conjuring consonance
You’ll see hope and love here
death
or indiscretion, lament and longing
or rather just what you want.
You’ll wonder about the indentions
the rise and fall of my intentions
and the obvious but certainly meaningful lack
of discernible style.
I work hard.
I calculated all the metaphors
ran through all the rhymes
turned all the ordinary diction on its side and
then re-arranged the stanzas
just to seem mysterious.
But what If I’m not really in here at all
and I reveal
that between the letters is just space
picas of page -tragedy
then
what will you see?
I am out of energy now and it would be
best to take me back home and get me drunk.
I want to feel the rush of electrons running through
my body, changing me and filling me at the same time.
Allow me to do better, do your bidding;
let me drink;
I
am
thirsty,
I want a buzz.
Recharge me.
Eyes.
Dark. Maybe black.
Too black to see the white that surrounds them.
Spanish eyes.
South American.
Peruvian. Chilean.
Either way, I’m sure she speak Spanish in her home.
A conversational Spanglish of sorts.
She never shows a smile.
Maybe a flirting grimace. An awkward, “Hello, How are you?”
“Good. See you later.”
Same time tomorrow.
That’s what I know.
I anticipate.
Like a pearl diver,
reaching to the surface for air, then I dive down immediately.
An awkward hello as a reason to breathe.
As if life isn’t reason enough.
I have to breathe again soon,
But I dive deeper this time,
and I don’t know when that next breath will come.
Everything was new,
From the smell in the air, and the tall buildings,
I felt overwhelmed and you didn’t help.
You were supposed to be my rock
Instead you were a dictator.
“Listen to what I’m tellin’ you boy, “you would reiterate.
“I’m tellin’ you this for your own good!”
But you failed to understand that underneath this tough exterior
Was a scared, shy, twelve-year old, who just wanted his mommy.
You never took the time to understand me.
A guide, that source of light,
I needed direction from birth.
Instead, I settled for holidays and phone calls
And my grandmother, aunts, and uncles
Making up for the time I should have been spending with you.
Now, I’m here.
Different street names, new faces and school, how do get home?
The thought of home… where she knows my favorite foods;
where she took care of me when I broke my wrist,
I was ten.
She watched me ride my bike
And took off my training wheels when I
Graduated and became a “big boy.”
What do you remember?
twaincarter 