Posted in Blog

Misadventure

Lying,

beside myself,

I am infinite,

for a moment.

Betrayed,

by how I portray the complexities,

of where I am,

as oh, so simple.

Black veil at dawn,

I sit under the sun,

as it stretches out,

waking up.

I am wondering,

if the sun will stay,

and if I am enough for her to love.

A little ray,

finds my freckles,

a little kiss,

a little reminder,

that I am always her beloved,

no matter where I venture,

my misadventures,

never make her love me less.

I was rich once,

in an immaterial sense,

blessed to be sure of my journey,

and the things that I’d become,

but I’ve also been a widow,

far too many times,

in a long term relationship,

with regret.

The sun will sleep soon,

by my side.

I bridge the gaps in my memories,

with fantasies,

where everything worked out,

with whichever “never again” I’ve invited back today.

I want to be happy,

but perhaps,

I’ve forgotten how.

Sometimes,

I think it might take me by surprise,

and I’ll remember,

as if by magic,

how to forget.

Would you let me be happy,

if I asked you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Dreaming Of You

It was just for a moment,

but there was an instant,

last night

(or this morning,

depending on your definition)

where you and I were reunited,

in my subconscious,

as I slept,

and I was yours.

I didn’t dare to say it,

even in a dream,

but I could sense it,

a sense of serene sentiment,

in the air,

in the way I looked for your face,

in the crowds I found myself in.

I am…

Maybe I’m cautious,

even if my subconscious is less subtle,

walking the waking world,

singing that same Selena song,

into my mask,

“late at night when all the world is sleeping,

I stay up and think of you,

and I wish on a star,

that somewhere you are thinking of me too.”

Posted in Blog

Blackfishing

Deep fried Caucasians,

on the timeline,

eyelash extensions,

padded like a drag queen,

but still with a skinny nose,

whip straight hair,

rapping THAT word,

with Nicki,

like they have the right.

Dolezel’s daughters,

children of the sun,

or so they say,

faking freckles,

golden brown,

when the sun hasn’t given them the time of day,

all winter.

Why are you so obsessed with us?