the Tears of Demeter

The night gently comes with the breath of a sleeping giant, darkening the light while lovers find their way into each other’s arms. Whispers are heard on the breeze passing through, like children playing hide and seek amongst shadowy trees, and while the Earth nestles to find comfort on her side the veil of Erebus embraces her with his warmth.

She looked at life through the eyes of a poet, seated by her window peering out as dusk settled in. This is how she imagined light dancing into night. She got up to make herself coffee one last time before finding her sleep, and as she steadily poured and stirred her cup she wondered how love found its place in such a ruthless world. She had been sleeping badly for several weeks, and found that not even in dreams could she escape her heart that fell asunder. No distraction worthy enough to separate the ache. She made way to her room, and crawled into bed heavy with thoughts and longing for change. Sipping her coffee while watching whatever was on television, and somewhere in between reality and fantasy she managed to calm her emotional storm. She had found the courtship of her fantasies and memories of broken romance a bit too comforting, and would reason with the reality of the situation by beating down at her wild imagination. Memories can taint a romantic heart when the heart knows nothing of what the mind has decided upon. She chose to walk away from the toxic mess and often reminded herself why but no matter the logic, there had been no respite from the regret that lingered. She reminded herself continuously like a broken record; The arm’s length she would receive often, despite her courage to always approach love with an open heart. How conversations where generally one way, and how many phone calls were spent in vain. Reminiscing of the bad would generally be considered good in certain circumstances if sharpened well and proper, but no matter the sting of tracking back there are those gifted given moments that meander and cut right through all the bad. The heart always interjects.

She sipped the last of her coffee and made herself comfortable in bed. She looked out her bedroom window at the Stars before closing her eyes, wishing for the sake of wishing. Perhaps tomorrow would feel the same despite the manifestations of change.

the Sunflowers unrequited love

“I love you.” I whispered. Soft enough for her not to hear me, however loud enough for the winds to carry. Someone somewhere must have noticed; Feelings like this hardly go unnoticed. She was far to self-consumed to concern herself with what messages my eyes were conveying, to ever acknowledge the “I love you, in spite of it all!”; In spite of the year I spent cradling her, to only receive tokens in return. Gestures of materialistic ideals that could be bought as proof that she is loving me. However, in spite of it all, I still loved her and all that followed suit because behind the keepsakes were moments that I placed value on. Priceless moments, and I remember every single detail.

the Harp of Vega

“Her laughter, her whispers, her breath emblazoning my flesh,

to moments, the measures, the reasons that bind me to her,

the sweet soulful sounds that knows my heart, its wealth

and how it enriches the whole.” – Belvedere

Gretel and the Blind Witch

She spoiled me like Queen’s only know its pleasures. Adorning me with gifts. The tangible offerings is what were offered to prey on my affections, to keep me bound. I always happily accepted, because behind every gift delight surrounded her essence. Watching her joy unwrapping within her eyes, while watching me unwrapping mine, are times in space gravity is born. I became enchanted by the glitter encompassing her inner child that insisted on playing. She is, I have found, the most unpredictable then. I never knew what playful trick she had up her sleeve; my inner child could not tame the nerves entangled with excitement and wariness. Was it Lilith, the child, coming out to play, or Lilith the adult luring me in for a quick snack. When Mercury, the trickster, is at his peak, Saturn must anticipate closely.

I made the mistake by asking for gifts money could not buy; Her time and her love. Far too consumed by how strongly I felt for her, and distracted by the strumming of the harp Cherubs played, I failed to notice I misplaced my sense of logic which, in time, followed with bereavement.

All good things do come to an end.

I gathered all the breadcrumb memories that she left with me and preserved them. There is enough to scatter a trail to allow her to find her way back to me, should it ever come to that, but I know better to leave traces. I have before, and it was met with the same differences. How could I expect different results by continuously knocking my head against the wall, when I could not offer myself a brief moment of respite? I had struggled to come to terms that our relationship had lack-lusted and nothing was going to salvage us.

Nothing is what is left over.

The perfect picture I saw at first, had never developed a frame to support it. My love for her eventually turned into becoming-accustomed-to-her-way of doing things. I could never fully express myself to her, nor could I truly be myself. I was seated firmly in a controlled environment and confused it as love. None of this I accuse her solely of.

the Damsel in Distress

A horse as free and as breathtaking to look at can never be tamed; I never wanted her bound in more chains than she had already maimed herself into. She is wild and always will be, in the beautiful sense of the word.
I remember the evening she first smiled at me. It was as though I had remembered a past life memory, my soul kept sacred sipping the waters from the chalice of Lethe. It took me a matter of instance to fall, as though my soul had remembered but, I could not hark back to the exact reasons why I felt connected to her. I had become compelled by the charming effect she had on me and, unlike Snow White who through true loves kiss woke, I embarked because of a smile.

I never got to complete my discovery, and no true findings were recorded or calculated on this adventure. No hard evidence or facts of my encounters with this soul had proven much. We had never been given the grace of chance to know one another, and the love we built had no Hands of Time to fall back on. Our entire relationship was a mirage that I am certain I created in my need of desperation to belong to something greater and of purpose. She will always remain a mystery as all wild horses do.

the Eulogy

I did not know my granddad very well, but then again, did anyone? What I do know is, that he was a very secretive and intellectual man. That he loved crossword puzzles, woodwork, geography, and most of all, he loved to draw.  The last conversation I had with him, I will always hold dear.  We spoke about the meaning of life, of love. We spoke about where we go after death, and reincarnation. Why certain people come into our lives and why they have to leave and why some never leave, And during our chat I realized that no matter where we go or what we do in this lifetime, we are truly never alone. We aren’t born into this life alone, nor do we leave it alone because we leave footprints in the hearts, souls and minds of the people we love. What becomes of us, after we are gone, are memories of laughter, love, friendship; The things money cannot buy. The very essence of who we are remains immortal to the ones we leave behind. Not only do we become immortal, we become legendary. Should we be able to call up the ones we love after they leave this lifetime, my last conversation to him would be:  “ Granddad. Time spent laughing is Time spent with the Gods, and you are amongst them now”

Echo and Narcissus

There is so much more to her;

She is a crystal clear pool that at first glance is a mirror, bouncing off everything that is spectacular. I was marveled by this ever steady water, a perfect picture posing to be framed. Moth to a flame, I willingly leapt from the barracks of the warning bells and dove into her unarmed. I extended myself on the very tips of my toes, for what was before me was magnanimous, and stretched my arms as far as possible to wrap myself into her rapture and just like that; Sleeping beauty pricked her finger on the spindle. Lost in a state of unconsciousness as she pressed me firmly against her, and kissed me with the urgency to bed me. I followed suit, and read every move as a gesture to a lifelong romance.

Every moment apart, even while I slept beside her, I pined for her. I had fallen in love, happily, until our romantic adventure turned into episodes whereby I pined for her while in her presence. She had completely vanished from me emotionally. All that stood in front of me, was a temperamental vessel. I found it incredibly difficult to tap into her, exhausting having to reach out to her in trying to salvage every darkened corner. She had veiled herself completely from me and like a wild dog feasting, snapped at me for nothing. It tore me to shreds. Shreds of my dignity laced the floor made out of egg shells, giving it that extra shine that I no longer had.

the Pied Piper

My bitter-sweet love, how beautiful you are. You pushed me to the breach beyond my capacity to love, and broke me, yes Darling, it broke me into shades of black and blue, pieces of my life missing. Whole chunks of time and space where memories should have filled now lay empty and I cannot retrace. It will remain unsettled because it is beyond waste. That waste in time that should have been spent and spoiled with your infectious laughter, and sex and all kinds of shenanigans. What a fantastic trickster you are, to have led me into your world where Jesters entertain. Foolish to the notion that the source of a steady commitment would be found, only to find myself awake in a nightmare.