How badly do you want it?
What is your motive here?
How much are you willing to sell –
your soul for this spot you’re in right now.
I can’t tell you right from wrong.
The future is a little unannounced.
All that you do,
All that you see.
Would you change it for something differently?
This is your life.
You are who you are.
The goals you possess –
It is all happening now.
So then the question simply remains:
What are you willing to sacrifice to become kingdom of this domain?
Tell me you love me –
The way the sun loves the moon –
The way the ocean’s tide meets the shore –
Every single day –
Without skipping a bet.
Take my hand –
Show me the stars I have never seen –
With the world at our feet –
Never looking back at our past –
Just you and I.
Kiss my bare skin –
Your warm breath fuels my soul –
Making me lose control –
Melting my body into the embrace of yours –
Begging you to never let me go.
Our love, you see, is but a mystery to me. I give you my heart with nothing more in return than your mere fantasy.
Find me underneath the old fig tree, where I will always be, waiting for you to return to me.
I feel as though I have lost all hope. A large weight has shifted onto my shoulders that I can’t bear to take off. The responsibility. The knowledge. If I don’t do it, who will? I know more than they do. It is my duty to save this. To save us. As a community, as a city, as a state, as a country, as a figure of the world.
If I don’t do it –
Time warps all around me.
There is a timer in my ear.
A coach yelling at me to go faster.
My parents telling me to hurry up –
or I may be late.
My head is spinning in circles.
Going through the motions over and over.
Slowly my legs begin to get tired.
The energy is starting to run out.
I scream at myself inside.
“There is no way I can stop now!”
The finish line is near.
As I near the end of the race,
The finish line gets farther and farther away.
And look back.
And realize I haven’t moved an inch from where I stared.
She moves to the sound of her own wind.
Completely oblivious to what’s around.
Something can catch her attention,
But lose it the second time around.
I want to know her,
The ins and the outs.
Yet something pushes me out.
She’s free, a spirit at heart.
Although she does seem lonely enough.
I want to know you,
Free child of mine.
But you put up a wall so fine.
Your beauty astounds me somehow.
The way you prance around.
So light and airy, without a sound.
What can I do right now?
To know the person you are deep down.
Losing a part of me that always exists.
Where did you go?
Dear friend of mine.
You were there just moments ago
Laughing and living the life we once had known.
Then one day I awoke from a slumber
To find you had left without even a note.
Someday I wish to see you again
Even if it is briefly momentary.
All I can hope
Is that I see you again soon.
Farewell old love of mine.
I am enclosed,
trapped but with consent.
Slowly but surely,
my limbs become more manageable.
The warmth of the sun is gleaming through,
yet I am still cold inside.
Time can only tell,
when it will all collapse.
For the day is near,
the day my wings will be spread.
Someone help her!
She’ll be fine.
I think she’s dying!
I have it under control.
This may be serious.
She’s being dramatic.
We should call for help.
This happens all the time.
It is always in the midst of failure that we realize the costs involved in risk. Being a risk-taker, you’re jeopardizing it all. Losing everything for the hope of something that isn’t sure. But when you win, when you achieve or accomplish whatever risk it was, it is, without a doubt, the best feeling in this world.
She says to me – “detail, detail detail”
For a moment,
I can’t understand what she means.
Does she mean the circular flickering light on the box above me at the bus stop I am standing under protecting myself from silver bullets uncurling my chestnut-hued waves in the midst of a dewy dawn breeze?
Or the fading, carved out burgundy wooden letters that look familiarly out of place, tucked ever-so slightly away on the corner of the prehistoric roof that either has the ghosts of ancient money remnants or street rats scurrying away or both?
Oh, I know!
She must mean the thin piece of peeling bark that reminds me of a nail scratching at a chalkboard, exposing it’s freshly grown, pine scented skin.
Maybe she is talking about the one, singular, pin straight whisker on the gentle kitten’s face that bends just noticeably slightly to a perpendicular angle.
My mind wanders and wanders.
Wondering what she means by detail.
Until I realize,
This is exactly what she wanted of me – to notice the details.