Friday, July 4, 2014

In Light of These Words

My dear state of mind, may you let my heart be.
It's no use opting for butter and using jam when it comes to something as simple as a slice of bread- and churning it over and over such that my day is full of 'why?' and not 'how?'
May you keep your opinions to yourself every time I tell myself that he's no good, because my heart is in need of your assistance. Do not value his character at face value, for nothing changes and kills faster than the realization that you were watching a well directed play and the end is nigh.
Let him be. He's as good as a charmer, as a pied piper whose flute is played to his tune such that all the rats may follow him out of town, as the children with such wonderful souls follow too.
I don't want to dance to your tune, more so his.
Am I cruel to wallow in my thoughts?
Tell me, am I simply deranged or going through a phase as though my time is nigh but there's not to show for it?
Is that it?
Is that why you torment me with the injustice I see?
Why can't you let me set one foot before the other and walk like the wind that blows?
You say the wind never forgets a face, well...mine's forgotten. In my anguish, I see him smile at her, I see her smile and wink. I have long found it disgusting when a man winks, but Lord help me for she winks as though she's the angel that he needs. I watch and stir my coffee yet my heart bleeds.
Why do I stay you ask.
Well...pain is my inspiration. It's my muse. I can bleed it dry to forge words that scorch the soul and torment the weak spirit, but if only it could bind the evil that's in his eyes...then I'd be the happiest lass alive!
I want to grind him.
To take him and stick him into a percolator and watch him squirm into my cup as my coffee does.
I want to shake him and remind him that there's more to me than the girl winking at him beside him- yet it's not in my place to let him know.
He's tall and dark.
He may be a looker to her, but were he set on a scale, then I'd walk to the next shop and buy an apple and leave.
For what he lacks in appearance is made up for in his charm and concern- he cares, yet it only seems he does so when it suits him. I look at him, and realize that he's been talking back to me. He's changed channels that fast, yet there's no signal in this one. He pulls out his phone, and asks me to smile...'I'll post it on Instagram,' I keep my eyes glued to my drink.
'What's wrong babe?'
I smile and realize, there's nothing wrong...I'm seated alone at my table and I'd just had this moment all alone with no one but my pen and paper to witness my emotions.
I let out a sigh of relief and pray to God to give me the strength to walk away when my man changes the channels.

For all that is right, let there be love-peace and understanding.