8 posts tagged “dreams”

The tears are being kept within reach.  Behind the white walls of these gray eyes.  It's okay.  I like them there.  Safe keeping.

I see us.  Dancing. Slowly. My head nestled in the dent between your collarbone and chest.  Inhaling the scents of a man.  Your palm rests on the small of my back.  Between the lip of my shirt and the belt of my pants.  There is some skin to skin contact. Some. 

It's crowded in this smoky bar where the band covers Irish punk rock, but I hear Ella Fitzgerald.  With her crisp, blue femininity.  And you hum soft romance to my cheeks.  Hush reassurance and tranquility, as I reach for some truth or explanation of life, in the accented lyrics of far off dreams.

In the center of this dirty sea, I'm ready to fall in love again.

i sit with my right ankle tucked beneath opposite knee and left heel pressing against the soft flesh of my inner thigh.  open books and loose pages support the empty coffee mug and crowded ash tray.  my glasses slide down my nose and my eyes peer out onto the sea of research, but my vision is lost in the fog of approaching realizations.  my hair is messy and tangled and flopped in a circular twist of knots and braids.  you are coming in or going out. from work or to the bar.  and you find me, piecing puzzles together in my mind.  you silently step towards my crouched body and lightly kiss my widows peak. you laugh at how involved i am, concentrating on these case studies and journal articles.  a quick insecurity washes over you; you question if you should touch me at all. if i can feel it, if i would even miss it. i would.
in this daydream you love me in my plainest most ordinary.
in this daydream you acted simply, yet honestly.
and these are my fantasies, darling.
Accepting
Honest
Understanding

the path was black pavement
slopping downhill
between Crayola green grass
in a kindergarten color book
you were out of line
my steps were quick and steady
as i paced a few feet ahead
escaping the explanation
the excuses
and discussion
i saw her
for the first time
thick chocolate curls framed her distant angry eyes
she was holding back hatred
i couldn't blame her
you were out of line
her clothes were from my closet
the printed peasant skirt
wrapped around her round waist
she has hips
and an ass
that bubbles
she looks at me
distaste
and knows without knowing me
that i am someone she should hate
then you left her side
and let her walk down lonely
you tried to explain it all to me
in the balance between us both
and i realized the indecisiveness
was decision for me enough
i smiled and excused myself
with a wink of patience
forgiveness
i have always forgiven
but in this dream
i kept walking
two steps
ahead of you

i like boys who drink coffee in the evening
who listen to elvis costello
and read memoirs
and tell stories
i like boys in sneakers and skateboards
in glasses and hats
and oversized hoodies
i like boys who like to touch
in public
in crowds
in places on my body where touching is not allowed
i like boys who have their own bounce
and beat to silent sounds
and laugh before the joke is told
and listen
when no noise is heard
i like boys who like video games
and batting cages
skee ball arcades
and sandy beaches
i like boys who like to explore new cities
in the after hours
with the compass moon
and bare foot trail shoes

to do....

to do....

to do today: pay tuition;go to bank and deposit yesterdays earnings so i can pay tuition; switch health care providers; contact current therapist/ob gyn/eye doctor/dentist/ see if they take new provider; find new doctors to replace old ones and start all over again; think about smoking a camel light but decide not to; go to gym, bank, post office, grocery store, car wash (desperately need to vacuum car); meditate (or try to); get oil changed (1,000 miles overdue); haircut at 3:30 (haven't had one since last april - could probably make it a few more months); feed dog, fish, plant, self; bathe;scream;cry; think about smoking a joint but remind myself of that looming drug test; breathe; journal; read my new book; find that other book so and so once told me about; remember the name of that book (mountains beyond mountains); start tracking my expenses; add 10% of yesterdays earnings to tomorrows savings; buy hot chip tickets; practice the drums; dream about my future; save the world; save my self; try to hold steady; breathe 

and i sit in my mint terry cloth coverings, staring out a skinny side window thinking about doing nothing

and i think about the last three weeks of work. i think of having one day a week off. i think of paying over $2,000 for two college classes and i'm reminded of the upcoming rent and the meager $350 in my savings account. i think about barter systems. what do i have to offer?

i think about the easy way out and running away and daydreams of old red convertibles chasing the setting sun.

went through a skater phase. went through a raver phase. went through a razor blade phase. i guess i went through a hundred dollars a day. 

i think about all the money i wasted on drugs, but i can't think about that too much. i'll call that dealer back- it'll begin snowing. i think about that guy i met when i was 17. he was 25 and my everything. i think about all he introduced me to and all those relationships i have since been ending. with sex and coke and ecstasy. with empowerment through dirty negatives. addicted to excitement. in love with the secrets.

i think about my boyfriend. so simple and inviting. warm and comforting and protecting. paternal.

i think about my dad. i think that he's still heartbroken from a sledgehammer he never stopped swinging.

i think i can still love him.

to do today: get haircut at 3:30; feed dog, fish, plants, self; breathe; call dad; pour another cup of coffee 

i was parked on your front dirt lawn

with no recollection of how i got there

i kept excusing myself, blaming my mother

my therapist agrees it all goes back to family

 

the woods across the street looked inviting

but my feet shuffled up to your door

i once had a bed inside, now the couch pulled out

it could never be as welcoming

still, i went in

i was looking for something

 

of course she was there

waiting and warm

blonde and petite and friendly

knowing

understanding

she should have been screaming angry hate

telling me to let go

instead, she brought me to my addiction 

but i left, ready for home

 

thats when you showed up

 

all those soothing, sympathetic apologies had been overplayed

as you coughed up bete noire

when would i realize that nothing was what we always had

when would i accept that being over is being dead

that the tour had ended;  my curtain call came and went

 

there was nothing left to say

all my emotions spent

when i woke up it was over

when i woke up, we were dead

i woke up in an ice cream parlor

with 31 flavors wrapped around my collar

the last girl should have lasted a little longer, but when you're bruised you reach for something softer

i woke up in a video arcade

the lights and sounds made everything ok

i began to feel a little less insane, with my ticket stub and giant lemonade

i woke up with two eyes shut and a nose full of the crusty stuff

i told her i wouldn't do that much, but the snow it just kept falling

fingers crossed, pajamas off - you know it doesn't fall too often

i woke up wanting to fall back to sleep when i realized my barnacle was no longer with me

so i decided to nap

to go back to those scenes when she was the only dream i dreamed

when she was the only redeeming flavor

gone, my missing savior

Waking up in the middle of the night, the evening horror film still terrifying a groggy vision, I am comforted by the familiar figure of a sleeping man.  Fighting the morning and upcoming alarm, I pull myself closer to the corresponding puzzle piece - back against belly and both legs bent slightly - I know where to wrap my arm, where to rest my cheek.

I'm surprised when his love excites me, yet that is all I am looking for, excitement.  I held this belief, back when I was no one's girlfriend.  I held this ideal that when I gave my heart away - openly, publicly, with the title of a relationship - that it would be serious and long term. That it would mean something more then the physical exchanges I was used to. I would justify my lack of dating by explaining, "I will sleep with almost anyone, but you must be that someone to date me".

I am surprised at how true it is; confused that I am a girlfriend.

I do not know how long long term is. I have yet to piece together the puzzle of forever.  Moreover, my eyes wander, our dreams differ, and I have reached for others.  However, I know this is love.

Honest.

Raw.

Real.

This is love and whether I come to know forever or the touches of many others I hope to always remember that I reached for him, in the night, under the covers.