...SpeakTruthFreely....: My mind wanders to him...

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

My mind wanders to him...

Unwillingly. Against all my control. Despite distraction in all its forms, my heart yearns for him. Habit makes me want him. Its hurts me to my soul...every day to work away from what it used to be. The nostalgia is inevitable. I hear the lyrics again...

"Fingertips on the small of my back

More valuable than all I own

Like your precious, precious, precious, precious dark skin tone"

Its like he never left. He's still laying there, the warmth of his arm against mine and i still hear him - "It was the sweet, sweet, sweetest thing i've know"

From time to time my I wander adding things to my mental to do list. i figure if I put enough on it i'll never get to actually dealing with how much i miss him...but i always wander right back to him. my head knows better. no going back.

can i love another?

3 comments:

verdadmiaJuly 14, 2010 at 8:11 AM
yes. one day. never the same way but, yes.
and he'll see you as a daily promise, not an obligation.
i love you, everyday.
ReplyDelete
Replies
inthenameofassataJuly 14, 2010 at 10:07 AM
When the time comes
When you're ready and
When the universe believes you are as well
You will understand why it is meant for you
To feel what you do now,
To hurt in every part of your being.
When it's time - you will understand.
And that's when your stars will align.
Be patience and let life happen on it's own course.
ReplyDelete
Replies
verdadmiaJuly 14, 2010 at 1:17 PM
that lady is smart; listen to her. i do. :)
ReplyDelete
Replies

Add comment

Invictus

OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance	5
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,	10
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:	15
I am the captain of my soul.

So you want to be a Writer

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.
and there never was.