What comes out
Three pens should do, and that large yellow book of writing paper too. I say thank you as I leave the little store .The clerk smiles at me asking if I am a writer, I just smile back- no, but I think I am going to try. As I sit, and start writing what I did to you .I write so cold thinking of you. Think it will fill a book, or two. I drive away on the edge of the next small town crossing a wooden bridge the river flowing without making a sound. I think of you, and the other Black hearts I once knew. I ask God to forgive me for what I did to you, but I’ll never regret getting rid of you. I sit in my car the morning sun warming me up, in this place I have grown to love, such a beautiful spot remembering back to those days .I Start writing filling page after page. Excuse me if I jump in, and out, I am just writing what comes out.
My Eyes Look to See Yesterday
I remember the first day I came to work there having to meet you all those years ago. I remember the face you made, and forced out a hello. I remember her still single, and her x working up front O we were all so young then. I look at you not to impressed, I could tell you thought you were God’s gift to woman. Her a bleached Blond drove a truck of all things, and was crazy over that little skinny guy .I remember he had I flat face, but nice enough little guy. She was full figured, and a nice looking girl. She told it, as she saw it .You were as fake as they come, over dramatizing everything, would think you owned the place, not just work there. O I didn’t like what I saw, and heard from you. Thank the Lord I didn’t have to deal with you, or the other two for that matter. I sat back watching you for years thinking what a show boat. I dislike him so much, but there came times when your paths there crossed, and we had to work together like with everyone there. I guess I, and you, just got used to each other, that you didn’t bother me any more you were just you. And when I saw that thing you called your girlfriend well that told all. Little ugly thing with a sour puss. Looking like she hated the world. If she only knew all the witches you slept with on her. And her x having to leave here after marrying her to get a better paying job to keep her happy, I feel sorry it didn’t work out love sometimes isn’t enough, and the bottle became his love. I too busy working, and going to school nights to find the right one the years got away from me, but was perfectly happy in my books. After all my life was better than all of yours. Funny how you can look back, and not see something coming until it hits you. Forced to see -it has all become real. Crosses we carry, petals we have fallen, starry eyed we watch others love swollen grows. As we believe our world in desperate reality is ending. Accomplishments we –still here. WillAgainstWill I go to the kitchen stink to fill the small kettle to make myself a coffee not able to sleep? I put down the kettle in the stink, and wash my face, I feel it creeping in, a change coming over me, it’s evil I feel inside wanting to come out, it’s not letting me preform ,work ,think, sleep. I remember the first time we meet not strangers emotional you were-we talked. Destructive you struggling with your heart break. I wish I could have avoided this meeting with you. Stubborn, emotional he haunts you. I don’t know why it’s so hard to get over, forget, but it is, to wake this morning knowing what’s happened fearfully it roots in my veins. My hopes, and dreams I to write so cold to the wires that bind us together –comes yet another night.
Locked in chains, we are, what we are, we rattle your chains. I am, I run, still, locked in chains, we are what we are, playing the game, lights in the dark, just memories, locked in chains.
I capitalized on her pain why not I watched as so many capitalized on my pain why shouldn’t it be the same. I told her she should end her life, take it to the grave. If she was brave, she might. I told her talking to me is like having a conversation with God.
I remember of his crash going to pick up his son’s on a snowy night old and worn from so many nights he lost control tired driving all the way up there all alone, off into the woods, off the side of the road. His family placed a cross thinking it’s his barilla site. People say they see him walking the street late at night, not at rest his soul walks the street late snowy nights.
But then again isn’t that what we are- locked in chains? I didn’t want him, but I wanted one, younger and nothing like him, I must admit. I must be blunt, we did enjoy our talks, and I picked his brain while he played his game. And I a plain girl he once said of me long ago got to look inside a real dog, and got to know. Well he led me on, and I lead him on, every day I learned a little more. Never to touch, looking enough, loving watching the passion in him grow. That’s half the fun he said, I have to be honest, and let you know, as he touch himself to make it grow.
He lied so many times about breaking up with you. Always the same story –I moved out on her, this time aim finished. Thinking to myself not again, then the next day were just weekend friends, over and over, time and time again, for years he used this to get one of my work friends. I watched as it worked again and again, then another one would leave again. I looked at as an old hen.
Not my doing –well that’s not right, if I never meet him none of this would have happened right. My eyes have grown tired of seeing .I close them, and with my hands rub them relieving there pain. It not all painful looking back, at times I have to stop and laugh. A plan girl in credit I heard them say –I guess I am in a way, but inside I have a flame. You better watch what you do, there’s always someone smarter than you.
Do you want me to tell you, so you’ll understand?
Vanity’s Dairy /