Incandescent, I’m pregnant with my words,
Pregnant, as in, ready to burst,
And give life where it’s needed, or not,
Irreverent, a moment of shining,
Where bulbs of luminous lime invoke
A poisonous vine. It’s similar in fashion when
I couldn’t feel a feeling twice,
It’s only one time that I felt it,
Like I can’t relive a moment in inception,
To revive the electric vibe
That enlivened me in a second.
So terrified at the ghastly future that I stayed in the present,
Played with ploys of my past,
Avoiding a void is like moisture in cracks.
Over time, the crevice loosens its solid texture,
It falls and becomes decrepit over time.
A dam is an unimaginable creation of man,
And I was that, an image of grandeur,
But with just the constant pressure of water,
My only vulnerability turned into a disaster.
Category: crisis
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Hey there, crickets. Feeling a bit down, you know? (One cool thing about crickets is they keep on chirping even when you’re just talking to them.) The world’s in a real pickle right now. It’s all hush-hush and super heavy. Cultures clashing, problems piling up, and my mentors throwing career advice and consultations at me like there’s no tomorrow. I see a lovely lady, and I just wanna say, “Hey, you’re beautiful,” and see her smile. I spot some guys I’m vibing with, and I just wanna go, “Hey man, that’s cool,” and that’s enough for me in terms of interaction.
But, you know what? Sometimes it gets lonely. Sometimes you crave a real conversation, not just small talk. Sometimes, you don’t want those steamy daydreams but rather to chill in the grass and wiggle your toes, and you wish there’s someone right there, opposite you, doing the same thing, and you both acknowledge it with a grin and keep on wiggling those toes. That connection, man, that’s what I’m after. I want someone to be on the same wavelength as me for at least a solid five minutes. It’s a bummer that it usually only happens during sex, but who knows, maybe there’s hope elsewhere.
When the clock strikes 2 am, that’s when I really feel like myself. No one’s awake, it’s all quiet and pitch-black. You can just be you, deep in your thoughts, and the darkness kinda keeps you in, ideally in a room all by yourself.
You start noticing the signs of autumn creeping in. Leaves are slowly dropping, and there’s that satisfying crunch underfoot. The breeze carries that distinctive autumn scent. The sun’s rays hit you like they’re saying, “Hey, get ready, ’cause I won’t be shining like this for a while. You’re on your own now.” Kids are back in school, and you see yellow everywhere.
This summer, it was like a bolt of lightning, and my life changed as dramatically as the sea during a hurricane. It’s almost 2015, and it feels like I barely got to know 2014. I’m done trying to please people by lowering my standards. Why do folks keep ditching me?
Sometimes, being nice to a girl seems to send the wrong message. I don’t want to come across as just wanting sex or a relationship. It sucks when I get lumped into that category with a bunch of other guys. It makes me feel less like a man and more like a dinger. I sigh when my questions get dodged, and I’m like, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to confuse you.” Or when they actually engage, it’s like, “Cool, now I just want a friend.”
There are days when I feel too smart for my own good and others when I feel dumber than a rock. Sadness knocks on my door and whispers, “Just this once,” and I find myself thinking, “Okay, just this once.” I’m yearning for a friend, even if my selfishness ends up hurting more than it helps. Loneliness can make you pretty darn desperate, but hey, alcohol and coffee can work their magic.
Even Sinatra on the record player isn’t cutting it these days. His voice doesn’t bring a smile like it used to. The wine stains on the glass are becoming a familiar sight, and I just can’t seem to figure things out. God, well, he’s starting to look like a convenient scapegoat. What about all those times he let me down? Was he testing me then? This feels like the longest, most bizarre test ever, and he’s the most patient proctor ever. But you know what? I’m starting to think this test doesn’t exist. In fact, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t. It’s just 2 am, after all.
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It has been a while since we last connected. I hope you’re doing well. I’m here to share some thoughts and feelings with you. I’ve been trying to bring some laughter into our interactions, maybe cracking a joke or two, hoping to share some moments of joy. However, I’ve come to realize that this can only work if both of us are fully committed to it, and I sincerely want that to be the case.
Sometimes, my thoughts get a bit jumbled, and I find it hard to express myself without your inspiration. You see, you’re like the rain that quenches my thirst, and I’m the hurricane that’s named after that rain. We complement each other, just like the way winks make me feel special and unique to someone. Just like snowflakes, which are all unique despite their shared characteristics, why shouldn’t a kiss be just as special and individual? It’s a personal and unique experience.
You’re both fun to have around and incredibly cute, and your presence leaves a lasting impression, etched in the very fibers of my being. But, you can also be exceptionally cold at times, and I hope one day to be reassured that I am truly loved.
I once heard that doves have only one lover throughout their lives, and the thought crossed my mind because it felt like you kept me grounded, unable to spread my wings and soar. I tried to take off, but it seemed like something was always holding me back, leaving me feeling like my wings were clipped.
I remember the sensation of your fingers gently tracing across my chest, the contrast between the softness of your fingertips and the slight scratch of your nails. It was a vivid reminder of how you could be both gentle and intense in the blink of an eye. These memories tend to resurface unexpectedly, like a sudden realization when I’m sipping coffee on the veranda.
Some memories are so clear and poignant, like the color red in a black-and-white world, that they stick with us. Maybe that’s why people say that blood is thicker than water, emphasizing the deep bonds formed through shared experiences and emotions.
I think back to the moments when emotions are so powerful that they feel like a song’s lyrics, or when a group of people comes together to sing along to a favorite tune. It’s like that feeling you get when you hug someone you truly care about and momentarily forget all your worries.
As I write this, I can’t help but chuckle, even as my eyes well up with tears. It’s a bittersweet reflection on the past, sifting through every detail in hopes of learning from it and improving for the future. I strive to live in the present and not let the past weigh me down, but some wounds take time to heal.
Our relationship is reaching a point where it feels like all I can look forward to is a physical connection, a brief escape from the prison of my emotions. I sometimes remember kissing you as if I were watching from outside my own body, an out-of-body experience.
I’ve always tried to make you laugh, but it’s become challenging to distinguish when I’m being serious. I find myself in situations where I pretend to be someone I’m not, like ordering a soda instead of a drink at a bar, putting up a facade to hide my true feelings. It’s a cycle of using alcohol for confidence and then using it to escape reality, only to wake up filled with regret.
Our souls are bound together, and a kiss is a symbol of our connection. I hope we’re not strangers now, as there was a time when I couldn’t predict your actions, but I always trusted that you would make the right move. It wasn’t because you were predictable, but because when you touched my chest, my heartbeats guided you, like a psychic connection with visions embedded in your palm.
I wish I could see the future for us, but I can’t. I can only dream, and in my dreams, I long to be awake. The pain is real, and I find myself crying in bed, hoping the white sheets will hide the evidence of my tears. I see you everywhere, even in the clouds and in puddles I resist stepping on in the rain. They say that eyes are the windows to the soul, but all I see in my reflection are eyes darker than coal. I hope this doesn’t mean that everything has turned to ashes.
Sometimes, I tell you to keep your glasses off because you look adorable without them, but then I think your glasses look even cuter without you wearing them.