Traveling through skin
A foreign body trapped
By this meat and sinew
Struggling to get out
This screamed impression into flesh
Stretched against the borders
Cut me out
Cut me free
Prison breaking down but never far enough to matter
Dance puppet pull the strings
Wear this, no this
Crumbling edifice behind studio walls
Is it weird that when I get put off, not rejected or when my offer is straight declined, my tension ratchets up. I try again or say no problem, let’s reschedule. And each time I either don’t take the hint, or hold the belief that everything is above board.
That belief that everyone is being honest is oddly disjointed to how I normally view the world. My normal world view is that people are fundamentaly selfish and look to their own interests first.
But when I’m interested in someone romantically, I put that aside. I seem to then hold the belief that all parties are working towards the same goal of emotional fulfilment.
Which seems like naivety even to me. But that knowledge doesn’t change how I act. Ever hopeful, naive. I’m made more cautious, only because my style is to be all in from the beginning, and that seems to be scary to people. I would say better to be all in and find out that there is nothing there than to have a relationship starve for its lack.
But from experience I’d say most dip their toe in, get used to that, then more until they are fully immersed. Now being all in doesn’t mean I’m in love. It means that I commit to the relationship. Which seems foreign to the people I date. If you’ve read this blog then you know that I lost someone. And that it’s taken a long time to heal, even to this point.
I mention this because I feel like someone disjointed from the way the world works now. I keep trying to apply what I knew, what worked before and coming up empty.
Is it so scary to want to spend time, to communicate on the regular? Or am I overthinking this? Or misreading the level of interest from my counterparts?
Keep it light, keep it easy seems to be the advice. That is so foreign to me. I’m more intense, like dark chocolate I’m just fumbling about here. Hopefully it’s an interesting read at least.
I worship at the altar of your skin
Dance fingers down
And hold your heat in cupped hand
Locked eyes and I’m falling
The softness of me in the softness of you
Rhythms repeated in heartbeat
Subsiding then building
Then an avalanche
Burned destruction in synapse
Pains pleasure roaring
Spent but awakened in need of you
I worship at the altar of your skin
Vast echos long faded from hardwood
Lost amidst the suffering
Long held fervor gives way to fever
A hallway you can never leave
Anchored by the stain
Missing from my arms
Silence and the soft sounds of someone getting dressed
The door opens then gently closes
A night lost in remembrance
In pleasure, empty
Hollow like the echos of you leaving.
Light pulsing in my eyes
Timed to the beating of my heart
Heat shimmers and radiates
Full to bursting
Sky arching inward
Slow giants racing forward to a future
Imagined but not realized
Find something to live for. If it’s art, do it every day. Doesn’t matter if you’re tired or uninspired.
If it’s something else, then do it with gusto.
I don’t know about the other stuff. Art, beauty, joy in found moments. Its different for each of us. Meditate. Find the path that works for you.
Work, is often just money. Remember you are selling your time, not your soul. Don’t shackle yourself by thinking that it is anything but. Maybe if you’re building your dreams and that’s a business, maybe that’s good enough. But so often it’s not.
Find someone to love, find the path. Before everything else, before the tawdry details drag you down.
If you’ve ever felt you were at my mercy, but had not asked to be put there, then, in fact, you were not at my mercy. You were actually on my honor, a place a good deal safer, with more restrictions, fewer desires and is a whole lot less interesting.
Knew I would burn out
At some point it’s inevitable
Lack of inspiration
No stumble and fall,
Nor inexorable decline
But the warm drowning blanket of effort
A morass of indolence
Just float here and fail