Push

A stroll by the sidewalk
in the cold
afternoon sun

A pinch in my sides
in my feet
it hurts.

Involuntary muscle contraction
that’s what it feels like to be
with you

A painful squeeze in my chest
and my heart freezes
hot ice

If this was meant for me
why
does it hurt so much?

 

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I wish

I wish I was a cloud

Drifting to you whenever

Wherever

 

I would take the form of rain

And comfort you by caressing your cheeks

I would block the rays

From your peace as you smile in your sleep

 

I would fill the empty glass

With my tears to quench your thirst

 

And when you look at me and frown

I would disappear as mist

As the orange blossom of the setting sun.

Drifting.

Like so many times before, you welcome me with open arms. I give you a firm hug, a hug that says I’ve missed you. You laugh and smile, but I know that it’s not for me.

It doesn’t reach your eyes. It’s the smile you give to strangers, to people wheeling past.

Remember the times when we laughed about how our professors spoke with a weird voice? Or that time when you slept over at my place and we talked about deep topics? You had opened your heart to me back then.

What about now?

With withering hands, I hold on tight to the jewel that has been my life’s treasure; with politeness you throw it into the horizon like a skipping stone.

In the dark, midnight sky, I watch as it falls like a shooting star.

Field of Green;

Are you listening to
the whispers of the trees?
Their leaves rustle red-purple in the
pastel field of green.

There hung a man they claimed
“didn’t deserve to be free”.
He hummed a desolate melody when
they said he murdered three.

In the dark of the new moon he cried
and told his lover to flee;
“run far away and hide
don’t you ever come back for me.”

Are you listening to
the whispers of the trees?
Their leaves rustle red-purple in the
pastel field of green.

There hung a man they claimed
had taken the lives of three.
The noose was tight, his body light
as he swayed in the field of green.

Silently;

You had gone in the middle of the night. The blankets on your side of the bed laid crumpled on the floor like the shedding of a snake. Your big camper bag was gone from the shoulders of the wooden chair.

The once feisty room now seemed empty and cold.

Ah, you had left a note on the bed. Your handwriting was so horrible it looks as if

“A flamingo tried to write, right?”

A laugh escaped from my chest and I remembered the way you covered your face with your palm in a pretense of embarrassment.

Thank you, the note said.

Were you truly thankful to have left me in this mess? With no direction, no map, this hollow emptiness and this pain… this, this heart-wrenching ache.

I ripped the note into pieces and wiped the tears from my cheeks.

Fallen.

You

took it all away. One moment you’re sweet as honey, the next you’re as cold as ice.
What! The edge of anger in your striking blue eyes shatters my armor, it’s
a war-hammer
that slams into the walls of my heart.

Facade.

“Heyy!”

That’s how it always starts. Always, with her shrill, overly cheerful greeting that is two octaves higher than it really should be. I feel the usual throb in my ear and wince as I prepare for the next torrent of soprano pitched, glass shattering how-have-you-been-s.

“I’ve been great! Just a little busy here and there, you know,” I reply with a forced smile. A little vagueness helps from time to time I suppose. It helps when I’m trying to protect the last shred of privacy I have left over my life. My eyes unconsciously follow the diamond-studded silver ring on her finger–her left ring finger. She flicks her shiny, ebony hair and it swishes as it sweeps just past her shoulder in perfect, soft waves.

“I’ve been great too! Did you know that recently John and Emma have gotten engaged? And there’s Trix and Hodgson….” She talks animatedly with her thousand-volt smile. Her voice unintentionally trails off into the back of my mind, where it becomes a constant hum, like the hum a refrigerator gives off in the middle of the night.

“…Jane?”

A deep, gentle baritone snaps me back to reality. My hazel eyes lift and meet his striking blue orbs. An all too familiar magnetism traps me. I feel the empty plastic cup I’ve forgotten about slip from my fingers. It hits the ground with a muted thud.

“Whoops.” He bends down and picks up the cup in one smooth, fluid motion.

My head yells in panic as the thud resounds in my heart. The wall of my defences cracks like glass. It grows and spreads like an ugly web and it branches out like a dead, withered tree. I manage a small “Thank you” as I try to breathe normally. Slow inhales and exhales. Now it’s his turn to start with the how-have-you-beens.

I repeat my answer, but he is a natural-born vagueness detector. He gives me that look with an arch of his eyebrow. I feel my breath hitch and for half a second I am overwhelmed, compelled to let him in, to drown in his warmth. He always gave me that look whenever I was keeping something from him. I always gave in.

“Congratulations,” I find myself saying as I smile and hold my arms out. He gives me a puzzled hug and she follows suit. “I’m so happy for you guys!” I pat them both softly on the back and try to fight the whoosh of sadness that brushes past me.