Watching my girls play is the best part of my day. I spend time thinking about them. Wondering why I keep working. Why I keep taking ops. Why I keep doing this thing I do?
And then I remember. I remember the faces. The smiles. The jokes. The sorrow filled faces looking back at me, knowing that there isn’t anything left to do but die. My people.
I can lie to myself and pass them off as employees. As people who made choices. But at the end of the day, I’m the one responsible. I took the contract. I sent them into harms way. And I’m the reason they died.
People will say it’s the person who planted the bomb, pulled the trigger, or plunged the blade. And they’re right. They’re right. But it’s not a zero sum equation. And my choices, my intel, my signature on some piece of paper sent them careening into the path of the bullet and nothing I do makes up for that.
But what I can do is take care of their families. Take care of their legacies. And make better decisions in the future. But I can’t do that without money. And I can’t do that without resources. And really, this is the only life I know. So I take my joys where I can.
Take my girls and give them the chance at safety and joy and love. All while I know, my men and women are executing orders and placing themselves one step closer to that final sleep.
Sometimes the responsibility hits you out of nowhere. The crushing weight, briefly unbearable
Until something lifts you up.
Tara’s impish smile and Sara’s brazen grin. And the nods of the guards. Who know what happens when I go too quiet and my gaze slips distant. And remind me, life doesn’t stop. Best get to it.
Slow let’s you experience it all
Let’s every minute flake away
A touch lingers forever
A lifetime in a moment
Life accelerates on its own
No point in wishing the future
It comes whatever we desire
The minutes slip away
Each breathe one more sliding step
One more yawning dark
Until all prices are paid
Until hopes diminished flame
And sorrow reclaims her place
As the only lover who stays
Can’t keep my mind straight
Reading pages and forgetting the words
First Glimmers of light
But fearing it’s a cave in
Not the dawn
Lost thoughts falling over the cliff
Hearing the last strains of a song
Wondering if the next, we’ll play together
Or am I forever a solo project
Lost in the final phrases
In the stillness
I know I would follow you.
In the bleak expanse of morning
When the lengthening night grows strong and the light fades
When the dark retreats
When only dew and shadows remain
Find me there
Bleeding from wounds left untended
Mouth speaking lies
While eyes plead to see
Blood stains newly fallen snow
And always the words spoken
This body paint is something else. I could not believe that was me in the mirror and yet it felt like I was seeing myself as the truest me I’ve ever been. Being a fox makes sense to me. Like all the world has been slightly out of sync until I saw the truest expression of my self in the mirror and now the last tumbler has clicked into place and all I need do is walk through the now unlocked door.
I exit my room and notice Pel is doing that oh so attentive unattentive nonchalance thing he does when he is self-satisfied with some ploy of his. My eyes flick over to Sara. Her look says it all. If eyes could light fires, I’m sure Pel’s tux would be in flames.
I follow my last instructions and present myself to Pel. I know he loves me but I always feel the slightest moment of fear before he speaks. I can’t seem to find a way to get the thought that he’ll harm me out of my head. It’s not even some fear that the other shoe will drop. It’s just that the look of possession and lust and ownership in his eyes look just like Mark’s eyes. He’d be hurt if I told him that. It’s not how he sees himself. Not as a predator but as a protector, but those eyes are the same. Until he kisses my forehead and whispers in my ear, “How’s my sweet fox girl doing?”
I don’t know how he does it. Maybe the tone of voice? But just a whispered question and I’m blushing and my skins normally so pale that I blush all over. But he’s waiting for me to say something, and with a little hiccup, I say, “I’m a very happy fox, today.”
He takes my hand and turns us towards Sara.
With a smile, Pel says, “Well, my dears, ready to take some pictures.”
I struck silent. Sara’s eyes hold the same predatory gleam that Pel’s has. The same desire and possessive need pours from her.
I startle when Pel leans over to me and whispers, “You know, foxes are predators too.”
Tree sap moves slowly
Perhaps I’ve stayed still too long
I had this counter in my mind.
Number of days since last screaming cry
Turned over back to zero
Not really counting the days but my body is.
The tension floods out even as the pain wells
And finally, wrung out, blurry eyed
Fall into sleeps embrace
A day alone sleeping
No battery recharge
A resting hum
Fading into dream
A life of love
If only in a dream
As all things are
Producing blades from blood
Drip by slow drip
Each day dying a little more
Trying to make the impossible
Selling time to pay for bread
Selling life to buy life
Eak out one more day
Closer to the impossible
A blade Forged of hearts iron
One more day
Until all chains are broken