passion

What I hide

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I want to feel the joy of nose nuzzles and clandestine kisses, I want love that swells and sways.

I stay silent, hiding my true theme: I love more than I should say. I want someone who’s not mine.

I think it best if I go away until something changes, otherwise, I’ll be ranting and raving.

(-I need to break out of my cell-)

Wish I knew how 🤔

I wish desire, I wish passion mattered. Any poem, any card, any piece of writing I’ve shared meant less than nothing, in fact, the attempts at romance were annoying.

Surprised? Nearly 20 years. So what?

I’m done.

He doesn’t even realize I’m already gone.

Waiting to bloom, my flower needs the sun’s light, but first, I endure the rain through night.

Grounded

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GROUNDED! I am. Hope is like magic to me. In a hopeful magic-mirror, I see a side of me that’s happy, electrified with new prospects of fun, giddy to grind with lust on my mind.      

BUT      Magic isn’t real. It’s a con.

When my brain gets too excited, it girgles naughty thoughts, and it tricks me into creating a story I want to hear, a fairy tale.     

About my days, I go slow, eyes looking up, thinking in pictures of…  

what if I found a connection

with a passionate friend, who tickles my fancy, OH yes, a muse for my fantasies…     

Every look, every touch elevates your love…that’s how I wish you’d feel about me, addicted like I’m your very favorite thing.  

Melancholy madness, knowing my truth. No magic can make me hope something will change. I’m doomed to accept my lustless fate, so I guess I’ll just go back to sleep.         

YET         

(I tell you true, this is happening right now!!!)

A yellow finch just now called my attention from my red pen bleeding onto my notebook paper.

Wheels turning I had to ponder, What is this bird saying?

He just keeps singing louder and louder, then I spot him high on a flexible limb, a cloud white floating as his backdrop:

“STOP! LOOK UP!”

He sang so lovely, not at all like the other birds, a voice and rhythm all his own.

Then, a sparrow chimes, “Just live…and be…love life…reality!”

As if stung by the sun, my eyes close, the pain in my neck feels like a knife in the muscle just turned, so a frown pulling my chin down, I wheel back into the cold darkness of the garage and close the door with a wrist-flip, twisting the deadbolt locked.

Enveloped by darkness, I see the remnants of that circle of light and I blink a quick-

CLICK!

Like a photograph, within my mind, I snap-shot this moment in real time where the moon eclipses the sun making me feel warm, less alone.

(I hope you never doubt your worth! I long to show you how much I need you in my life, or I swear I wouldn’t have been able to hang in this long:)

That ‘P’ Word

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It’s that ‘P‘ word that eludes me lately.

I search each day for that ‘P‘ in my memory, dressed as the lovely lit up ghost of a childhood friend, who began teasing me when I was ten, always up to have some fun, and Oh, how hot I got when that ‘P‘ came around!

It’s that ‘P‘ that proved to be my rock when nothing else helped, and I’ve hidden that ‘P‘ deep within me, a fire always burning up my shadows, stroking gently my ego, no matterhowlow I go.

Then, one day I tried to coerce that ‘P‘ to come, Please…I plead, Come home. Weeks of searching, but NOTHING CAME! That ‘P‘ was gone…I knew…

I really was alone.

I wondered: Did my big-bad, sad soul swallow that BEAUTIFUL ‘P’ whole to suck on its marrow until it’s gone…as if it was never known???

Fuck NO!

I don’t reside in a metaphor anymore!

That ‘P‘ was never anything but what I want it to be. And, no matter what I do it’s ALWAYS inside me. It’s my PASSION I’m hiding deep, my passion exuding me, it’s passion I want dancing a burning fire up my ass, not the memory of things done gone in the past.

Now, how to TAP THAT PASSION and make it laaast???