Repetiton

Don�t act like I�m not here with you, hearing you, watching in your face the world crumbling away. I started this, I know, but I�m here to finish it. I reach for your hand and you pull away. That was an act of me pulling you onto the same page, to share the story. You are on your own now. I can�t offer myself too much. There�d be nothing left. I can�t tell you why.

Flicker. There. There is the handle of the door. Pulling it open and throwing myself upon the familiar pavement would be a thousand words in one act. This would all stop. The stars shake in fever. No, it wouldn�t stop. Run. Cry. Rip the nails of the right hand around my waist and release the blackness. Every drop of flame lights a candle in me.
*
Hands reach up to the sky. Some thrust forward with the beat. Some grasp what they cannot touch. Entwined fingers are pressed against hearts resisting the urge to release boundless joy across the earth. Tears are streaking faces to my right, to my left. If this was an element, it would be air. Nobody is here with a match; nobody is here with empty promises. I can breathe for the first time. I have made my confessions, and now I am here to take my place. I needed somewhere to hang my head.

A book smashing against a wall. The feet, your feet, will not stop pacing. My nails, so sharp and ready for that flesh again. I want to scream, to stop shaking, these tremors. The blackness laughs at me. God falls. The light from the hallway appears, and then closes again. Just leave. This record keeps skipping. This song is old. The trees outside. Please go. Amen indeed.
*
I�m laughing. I�m loving again, so fast. I didn�t even have room to breathe, to escape. One heartbeat ended and another began. When pieces of your heart are given to others�a little here, a little more there�it is only a matter of time before you wonder what they did with it, if it has been put into another puzzle, or if it is the same shape. I sit down gracefully as possible in the passenger side. I smile, he calls me his baby, touches my leg, and we leave. I forget my infatuation with the other. He is not here now to pull my heart strings.

An IM online. Kyle (9/30/2005 12:24:39 AM): I�m not upset with you I never have been and probably never will be.

Comforting words in a torn moment. Then the seam rips again.

An IM online. Kyle (10/19/2005 12:59:55 AM): i love you ash

It was not over. My heart on my sleeve. My dreams, filled. Again, I wonder. My infatuation begins again. Smooth blond hair. Sunrise behind us. A desk separates us. I tear at his walls to bring them down. Yearning for a hand to hold to feel if it is real. See the man performing on stage, his blood relatives surrounding me, bringing me in.

That was then, this is now.
I gave up.
He didn�t.
He stood back.
I dreamed.
Another takes me away.
I gave up.
He didn�t.
He stood back.
I dreamed.