one more year nearly over but this time i won’t attribute it to anyone. no, not to you or X or Y. it wasn’t mine either for it took me on a ride, spinning me around on a carousel of heights. and i can’t see the lows, looking back into all that time through my rose-tinted glasses. i can’t.
lets leave them lurking in the shadows, where past has teeth and broken dreams, like glitter, pave the floor.
i’ll visit them again. i have before.
and i believe.
i believe that one must welcome a year in with the colours of its chinese animal; that one must drink a glass of champagne as the clock stikes midnight; that the way one spends new year’s eve will be the way one spends the year.
my supersticions supersede any norm of rationality, but darling, you said so yourself, i’m the luckiest person you know.
believe that there’s some truth to supersticion after all and drink champagne tonight.
and it’ll be the night when i will set the sky alight, our paper lantern flying up above. i’ve found love.
Posted in chapters of my life
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our whole life is a mess of those fridays. we know them so well. the fridays when we go somewhere and one of us, at some point, any point at all, ends up feeling miserable.
i’m no magician, my love. can’t turn grey into a million of colours, can barely turn grey at all. but together we almost manage, the shade changing from darkness to light, from dawn to night.
friday was nothing more than that, you must understand. a sort of middle ground for all our ghosts to come out. and mine did. X was there, as was his new love interest, or rather his soon-to-be ex-love-interest.
she goes through men faster than i go through lingerie and yes, we know her. she catches our train sometimes and don’t you just love the way she talks of her life so freely? i never could quite muster that attitude. you know the one: where casual sex is just another bad habit she really must give up; where a ciggie on the sly hasn’t hurt anyone and two-timing is merely a way to make two people happy at the same time.
but no, i do exaggerate.
still, do not think me bitter for i am not. not at all. and it only seems so because i’d rather people see a tint of jealousy in me than see nothing at all.
and you must remember your promise: you said you won’t get upset at such occasions.
and when the past runs before your retinas again, scanning for weakness, don’t be too quick to give up on our happy ending, where cinderella meets her prince charming.
and the glass slipper never shatters.
Posted in chapters of my life
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sometimes i wish to hear your voice:
the soft cacophony of sounds,
your steady breathing interrupting
toungue’s quest to place me in your mouth
each word in lurid reverberation
it’s vowels readily astute,
acute as angle door makes
before closing /
like a new bed or, if you’d rather, wardrobe
i want a van to carry me that voice
as i recline half-open on the floor
i want a man to knock upon my door
and give it to me, there, then, no strings attached,
merely a parcel with a part of you /
if only you knew
sometimes i wish to hear your voice
but daren’t ever let you know /
Posted in excerpts
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oh yes, last night was great. i love the way life works you know: on the night you were away, X was told about you and me.
what sort of friends kick you when you’re down? evidently, his.
i heard you have a new boyfriend.
you used to mention his name so much.
and so what if i talked to him about you? so what if i talked to you about him?
i tried to show you people the whole of me and not the parts you wanted to see. i wanted to prevent you from loving a lie. who knows how i fared? maybe you still are.
but i won’t lie. i never have and i won’t lie to you now – i still give a damn about what’s going on in his life and i never want to let go of this translucent thread between him and me, spanning like a spider’s web into realms of nothingness.
me and X, we don’t see eye to eye, we don’t speak on the phone, we barely exchange a word electronically, but i still don’t want to let go of this remnant. the remnant of my past that lingers like a memory of rich perfume in the cold night air. because there were good times. there were.
and i guess that’s selfish of me, and i guess i’m weak, but i never asked for forgiveness, just acceptance, so when he asks and you need to be gone, why are you still here? and i reply because i still care, i need you to believe me that it’s you i want, not him.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged about, acceptance, air, ask, asks, barely, because, believe, boy, boyfriend, care, cold, damn, don't, down, electronically, evident, exchange, eye, fare, forgiveness, friends, give, go, going, gone, good, great, guess, have, he, heard, here, him, his, kick, know, knows, last, let, lie, life, linger, love, loving, maybe, me, memory, mention, much, musings, name, need, never, new, night, not, nothing, nothingness, now, on, parts, past, people, perfume, phone, poor, prevent, prose, realms, remnant, reply, rich, see, selfish, show, sort, span, speak, spider, still, talked, there, this, thread, times, told, translucent, tried, used, want, wanted, was, way, weak, web, were, what, when, who, whole, won't, word, works, writing, x, you