What odd things do you find romantic?

You ever wonder about the weird things that you find romantic? Like for me, its having the same sleep schedule as me. It seems like something so small but it means that when you get tired, I do and vice-versa. Which means we get ready for bed and go to sleep at the same time. Which means we’re awake and can have time together at the same time.

Now, maybe that’s weird but my sleep schedule is a split one. I tend to sleep at about 8-10pm for about 4 hours. Then I wake up for a few hours then sleep for 2-3 hours. It works for me but its odd.

If someone were to have the same sleep schedule it would open up whole worlds. We could go exercise together. We could watch a movie or read or play a game. Because those small hours between sleep seem like stolen ones. Like they exist outside of the normal day to day and can be used for things that aren’t normal. Those hours exist in a gray area and can be used for whimsy rather than normal.

Existing outside the standard day diurnal cycle is hard. Maybe I just find those hours lonely and wany to share it.

Thoughts filter from the ether in the dark of morning

We all want the fairy tale. The one that says that we’ll find perfect love and be happy. But chasing that dream just results in ashes in the mouth. There is no perfection. No dream. Fairy tales are full of blood and betrayal. And we forget that. Bound instead to the spun sugar fantasy that modern cinema and Disney has spoon fed us.

There are people who are good for us. Who would be companions. Who would walk beside us in our slow boat to the end. But our brains are filled with the thinly veiled rot. And when things get hard…and they always get hard…many of us bail. Looking to that false sunrise over the horizon.

Of course, if the hard is abuse, then get out as soon as you can. Leaving them dead in your wake if neccesary. Just dispose of the body. Have a plan. Because our justice system is bullshit.

But from that digression, instead focus on what’s real. Not some thinly veiled possible. Find the people who love you. Stand up and beside them.
Life is hard. Alone, its impossible. At least long term.

But be real. Have the hard discussions. Get on the same page. Figure out what works. Love each other.
Nothing else is as important.

Jaw clenched against the pain

Sitting in silence
One last reminder
One last pretender
One last link to the frozen past
Indelible ink
Marked in skin so deep
Its 7 years by 7 before it shows
Kiss me I’m yours
Give over to fire and passion
Don’t wait
I’m looking for that sign
But all I hear is silence
The too loud voice of my own thoughts
Reiterating
Over and over
What silence really means
All while hoping that it doesn’t

Tired of living for tomorrow

Long to sleep in a bed where the gulf of distance is impossible
Where the warmest of nights still means we touch
Even if just lightly while our bodies fling out
Searching for the slight chill
To wake beside my love
In the sure knowledge that we will sate our desires
Lasting an hour, or 10 minutes or 18000 seconds
That reaffirmation that we belong to each other
That we exist not just in the emotional heart
But to express that in touch
In deed
In words whispered across skin
To build a life of each other
The daily chore built on a bedrock of passion
Never losing sight of ourselves and the continued goal of us
To exist as pragmatic romantics
Knowing that there is work
And reveling in the building of a life

Always and again

A winter wind soothing aches long held
Pains fade in the embrace
Soft words give way
To wine red embraces
Wild, not with the folly of youth
Instead of the knowing
Of self
And each other

Tears
Confident
Wild
Bear down the trials
Gravity’s inevitability

When freed from the hazard
Of expectation
Of what is supposed to be
We may dance

Choose
And choose again

Hold your arm in mine lest I fall

I find myself happy
Though no delirious thing
No cracked grin
Manic and fading
No simple contentment
Though perhaps contentment has been so far away that I wouldn’t recognize it
I find joy in the simpleness of being
The hush of night
The sounds of the heater
The far to silent room
Because the truth is that my happy has a hole in it
And it’s only that space of lack
Which informs the rest

Celebration of the dying flame

In the summer dreary
I wake from dreaming, leary
Living in a haze of before

Last looks leave me reeling
Last words etching
Seven years to be free

Stride into winter
Calling out the world to come
Reborn in the cold expanse

One second to collapse
That small puncture
Leaking air

Give me a moment to breathe
Never let me go
Never hold me enough
What’s one more day

One more day
In an eternity of without