Strange Equation
Oddly enough
it's Censure
that rhymes
with Adventure
Its contrast reigns
like a Rose—
to a Comforter
and threatens
—pleasant
pillow fights
with its thorns
Self-restraint
and hedonistic
abandonment
—in tandem
ensure the
successful
venture—
Amid the crowds
of feather-weighs
a tour de force
a heart wrencher
#ProseQuestion #Challenge
Something I forgot to tell you...
We were 11.
We met at school.
You were sitting at the desk before mine in the file, our last names start with the same letter. You had to turn around to talk to me, and you did.
You said something, I laughed, and the professor scowled. His reprimand was the first of many.
I had a best friend at that time. She liked you, very much. You asked her out, as the sweet soul you are.
Unlucky I had forgotten to tell you something that same morning.
We were 12.
We chose different subjects.
The desk in front of mine felt empty, the boy sitting there was not you.
My best friend was not dating you anymore, she hated that you had dumped her. You did not dare to talk to me. Were you afraid that I would be on her side? I was secretly hopeful.
You liked another girl, I tried to cheat myself and like some boys. I swear, I tried.
The year ended, another summer took me away from school. You were one of the first to cross the exit, and you disappeared in the streets before I could notice it.
Unlucky I had forgotten to tell you something that day.
We were 13.
We had grown closer somehow.
We were happy best friends, visited each other a lot, making up for lost time.
One evening, coming back from school, the news struck me like a punch in the gut. My parents were packing, the house was empty.
Some days later, you were accompanying me to the airport, carrying my heavy luggage as the gentleman you are. My throat was knotted, my cheeks were wet.
You said something, I laughed half-heartedly. No professor scowled, but our parents smiled.
Before I could realize it, I was on a plane, off to an unknown country, while you had stayed behind, on land.
Unlucky I had forgotten to tell you something before leaving.
We were 14.
We had miraculously kept in contact, separated by a thousand kilometers.
You were becoming a tumultuous teen, a nice-looking guy.
I was struggling with a foreign language, battling with a new culture.
You were popular, I suffered bullying.
You did not have time, never enough to talk. I had sad, ugly things going on on my mind.
You called once, I was upset and did not want to say much. After a minute of awkward pause, you hung up, and did not call anymore.
Unlucky I had forgotten to tell you something at that moment.
We were 15.
We were like strangers, still a world apart.
You were a blurry memory. I was feeling much better.
One day, I found your scribbled number on my agenda. Without thinking much about it, I dialed the nine digits. When I finally realized what I was doing, and was about to stressfully end the call, your voice on the other side of the line froze me.
You acted as if we were still friends, and I was too shocked to do otherwise. We slowly buried our shyness, revived our jokes.
You said something, I laughed. There was no scowling teacher, but we could not see each other.
You told me about that new girl, and her special smile. My heart slipped off my hands, and fell on the ground in tiny little fragments. I said I had to hurry somewhere, with the unsincere promise to call back soon.
Unlucky I had forgotten to tell you something before running away.
We were 16.
We were telling our friends about each other.
We shared gossips, we argued about sports and politics.
We both thought we were studying like crazy, but little did we know that on next year it would have been worse.
Fever about becoming adults was already attacking us, we were making strange plans, building castles on clouds.
You were still talking about the girl, but I had glued the pieces of my heart together.
We started joking about the day we would finally reunite again, maybe this same year.
You had exams to pass, I told you I had a boyfriend.
Did you feel nauseated when you heard about it? You did not talk about the girl anymore.
Suddenly, conversations became rare, and eventually died out.
Unlucky I had forgotten to tell you something before that.
We are 17.
We are almost grown ups.
We do call each other, because we are reasonable. We think much more before we act. We have mended our wounds.
I think about you very often. I like our friendship. It is strong, it is solid.
You told me you would pay my flight to visit you on your birthday, I laughed at how much this implies for your wallet.
Things have changed.
No teacher can scowl at us because we talk too much.
No ex-girlfriend can stand between us.
No distance is enough to break our bond.
No jealousy divides us.
You are in love, I have a crush.
She is lovely, he is adorable.
You work to be somewhere, I dream to be someone.
Finally, I have forgotten what I wanted to tell you before.
#love #nonfiction #shortstory
Stress Eating & Starving
I have two pieces inside of me.
I have a vessel so empty that I can’t bear to eat.
Bones terrified of anything but skin clutching their framework.
A vacant map of carefully crafted dysmorphia that I can’t imagine feeding anything but self-taught lies.
I have a bursting body filled up until all I can do is feast.
Insides begging for all that they can eat.
A rib cage fighting to contain the craving to binge and explode.
I have two pieces, and neither is healthy or sure of itself.
I have two pieces I struggle to control, but neither make up a whole.
Midnight
Sitting out on the porch listening to a whippoorwill somewhere in the distance and the sound of the stream off to my left rushing along.
This time of night, sounds of slight rustling of other smaller animals foraging in a wooded area off to my right are easy to hear. A slight breeze plays along my skin as I sit rocking back and forth slowly.
I don’t get many visitors and I like it that way. When people do come by (think last time was two months ago), they think they have to do things for me.
Living here like I do, I learned how to get around so that now, I don’t have to use my hands to feel my way around. Just count the steps in my head. And every place I go in my house, everything is memorized.
When you’re blind, you make do the best you can. I don’t mess with the Internet and don’t have a television. But I do have my music. Have to have my music. Makes the day and before bedtime, calm. Keeps me relaxed.
Wait.
What was that sound? Now it’s stopped and—no, there it goes again.
Doesn’t sound like an animal. Animals don’t shuffle. Someone is out there.
Reaching for my rifle to my left, I levered it to add a bullet to the chamber. Might be somebody thinking about robbing me.
I can hear heavy breathing of some sort as if whoever is out there had been running.
“Don’t know who you are but take another step and I’ll put a hole in you so big nothing will patch it up! Just go on and find someplace else to play!”
I hear shuffling moving away from me as if running. They must have gotten the hint.
Wait. They aren’t running away, they circled to my right and are closer. Turning in that direction I raise my rifle and fire a warning shot in the air and then levered in another round. I heard a large amount of movement then but no voices.
“Next time I won’t shoot in the air! Last chance. Get off my property or you’ll be on a slab at the county morgue!”
Quiet again.
I called for Willie. Willie’s my hunting dog though we don’t go hunting. He’s ten which means he’s as old as me. So neither of us do much.
“Willie. Willie boy, come here, now. C’mon, boy.”
Next thing I know there’s Willie, snuggling against my legs but what’s this?
Reaching down, it just isn’t Willie. It’s a second dog.
“Willie, was that you out there rummaging around? You almost got yourself killed, you know that? And who might this other one be?”
I could feel Willie rubbing alongside the other dog. Feeling this new one’s ears and body, I could tell it was a Basset Hound, and … I’ll be hanged, and it’s a she from what I’m feeling.
“Willie? Did you find yourself a girlfriend? I’ll be.”
I let up off the rifle and set it back where I had it.
Both Willie and now Mabel, laid down in front of me feet.
Sitting back, I smile thinking we just became a bigger family.
Guess what people say is true. Love can be found in some of the strangest places.
Secrets of a Lesbian: Poem #4
I think to all the stories,
That I’ve heard throughout the years.
In all my books and on the screen,
The villain’s always clear.
But just suppose that’s not the truth,
And stories have different sides.
A villain to you could be someone,
That others have glorified.
What story does the hunter tell?
Right after he goes and slays?
And can we blame the mother bear?
For revenge made in her craze?
What would a soldier’s mother say?
To the enemy’s own son?
Aren’t they just the same in fact?
Different uniforms yet same guns?
And now I think to you and me,
And how we’re both to blame,
You hate me for the things I did,
But we’re actually just the same.
It all depends on the view you take,
Into the stories and the lies.
But if you need, then go believe,
I’m the only real ‘bad guy.’
#poem #poet #challenge #poetry #lgbt #lesbian
