He's There, Somehow, Biting Through the Whispers of Dreams.

I know he's been there

Somewhere in between the palm of my hand and the unwritten corners of last week...

I know he's seen me, tip-toeing over the shadows that felt misplaced in his mother's hallway, the darkness contradicting the way I kissed him, the way he whispered...

the way I cried.

My calves can't handle this and I'm desperate to return to something

skinny

like the way my fingers fumble on buttons that should have never become undone and I swear, my blue jeans are older now, they've lost their pride as the mirrors that reflect me laugh upon the lilts of dishonesty,

and now I feel less than important, despite the crawling of my skin and the knowledge that his lips

have rested there.

I'm perfect when the pages warp, when Webster falls asleep and dreams, when surrealism flashes her sparkling smile across dictionary pages and the stain of irrationality

creeps

over my cheeks,

I'm terrified of silence yet I stay inside myself, I wrap my mind in thought and mutter insensibilities occasionally, I discover the warmth inside my stomach when fear attempts to bite me, and I turn a little to my left to find him, breathing,

behind the shadows

watching me.

My palms are clammy, I've picked up memories and clenched onto them for far too long, I've let them drop and shatter and studied their destruction, but I've looked up when I've been raking the earth of inability for hours and I see him,

smiling,

holding irrationality in between his sparkling teeth

and I'm perfect, somehow,

in these tangles

of

my

hair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Kara Emily Krantz]

Well it's not often that you post something that isn't desperately aching and heartbreaking. I'm happy to see that I love this other side of you, as well. I'm guessing I love anything you pull out of that beautiful heart of yours.

"I know he's been there" - loved the way you started it.

"the darkness contradicting the way I kissed him, the way he whispered...

the way I cried."

yes yes.


"and now I feel less than important, despite the crawling of my skin and the knowledge that his lips


have rested there."

Favorite line.


"and the stain of irrationality


creeps


over my cheeks,"

:)


"I'm terrified of silence yet I stay inside myself,"

"I turn a little to my left to find him, breathing,


behind the shadows


watching me."

Powerful moment.


"holding irrationality in between his sparkling teeth


and I'm perfect, somehow,


in these tangles


of


my


hair."

Um yes. Perfect. Love it. Genius. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ;aldfja;jf;adkfdkaje;on Wish I had written this myself, and I hardly ever say that. But it's true. This is brilliant. As are you.

[Victoria Harlequin]

Your writing is very unique. I love it, it is .... for lack of a better word, smooth.
I really enjoyed this one, great write!

[J]

I didn't realise you'd come back.

Honestly, your writing gives me shivers.
It's so naked, so pure and vivid.
The artistry in this is how bold and free you are.
I missed reading your work.
Truly.

J

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Your really have such an unique style... your use of emotional dismay and regrets stirs in me when I read this... I need to come back and read you more often.

[Tara]

Beautifully done...perfect in his eyes somehow, despite muttering insensible and clammy hands...love this, Jean Marie!!!

[An owl on the moon]

So freshly woven, like a tapestry of the mind in a thousand colors... Always so perfectly solid and fragile... boldly whispered with magic... I could read your words all day...