(I) Love Letters

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Monster Tales

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Forecast: the first tendrils of light at daybreak Where is the monster I made out of you? The slimy shadows I cast on you? I've built you up so much in my head The proverbial monster under my bed.  A terrifying menace A salivating savage I have the bite marks to prove it... I've spent so long running,  escaping your breath on my neck Finally you've caught up to me With dazzling smiles with teeth and not fangs Not sharp talons but perfectly manicured hands The booming roar I waited for,  quelled by soothing voice It's funny, this frightens me more I am no longer sure who I am fighting and what for The big, bad evil that haunted me all those nights was Soft , human, just like me You bleed just as I bleed You've got the scars to prove it.  And how I want you to bleed.  To sink my teeth  where it hurts the most and bring you to your knees  in an heroic clash  between good and evil  But there are no foes or heroes Just two...
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Forecast: chilling breeze "Your words are so refreshing" , she's saying to me.  Refreshing?  It takes me a minute to sink in before I whisper, "It's funny, they never leave that way"  Instead they storm off in a huff Of tears and dust slamming the door off of its hinges.  Or wander away,  dazed and confused  with nowhere else to go.  But I see they've found a home in you.  These aren't the words I kissed goodbye,  sent packing in the night.  Somewhere in their fearful journey,  across mountain and valley  They were washed clean.  And arrived in your hands fresh and safe to drink.  It is a wonder they made it all this way,  a kind of relief  Knowing there are traces of me uncaged, uninhibited...  Soaring, flying free.  Infinite in the ways I am limited, to dream, to reach, to seek. 
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A Little Bit of Darkness

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"I tell ya what Sam, I think you're plenty  inspirational when you're not trying to be..."  The past few weeks I've struggled to share a poem I wrote. Over and over again my hand hovered over the send button and I talked myself out of it.  It's not pretty, or flattering in any light.  And even though I don't completely believe it, there must be a little part of me that does.  You know, the part that wrote it... But somehow I got it into my head that I was meant to inspire others with my words.  But it feels like a lie, the need to present myself as well-adjusted all the time. I think about the nights I soaked my pillow and when I was all out of cry, I'd write.  Nothing pretty, nothing that made you smile.  Pain wrung me dry, but it also inspired me.  I reckon you need this too, my personal broken. Unsure, uncertain, insecure, scared out of my mind, lonely...so very lonely, weak, disappointed.   A hand to squeeze in the dark if I cou...
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Imaginary Pen Pal - Pt. 2

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December 17, 1965 Dear L It seems I am slowly losing my mind One neuron at a time  It's no wonder you've been gone so long There is so little to do here, nothing to see Least of all me.  Dear L The last time we spoke, You gave me a rose Had I known,  That its petals would fall before you came home  Then I wouldn't have thrown it out so carelessly.  When I walk past the field, it amazes me  How summer's leaves have dried and died Two full cycles of death and life have completed before you and I locked eyes.  Sincerely, S Go to : Imaginary Pen Pal Pt 1
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