Words

They're fleeting, these words you speak

Short vibrations in the wind

flowing out your mouth

drumming through my ears

A nanosecond of time

and the words travel through my brain

Never forgotten and never believed.

He walked down that same street every weekday morning between 6 and 7. It was a necessity when he was in college that turned into something close to a ritual when he got married. Two years ago, back when the world seemed like a messed up place he could fix he'd walk from his apartment building to the coffee shop every morning, sit down in one of the ridiculously large but incredibly comfortable chairs, and write his ideas, his beliefs down on an old battered journal. The day he found out his girlfriend was pregnant, the day he decided to marry her and get her go through school while he took care of the financial situation, was also the last day he went to that shop and wrote his future plans to bring about world peace. Every day after that he began writing his plans for bringing up his child.

She spends every day avoiding the problems in her life always finding and excuse to do something besides what she needs to do. Every once in a while she'll suck it up, let go of her childishness and deal with whatever it is she needs to deal with, but by that time it's almost alway too late and she finds herself at a loss as to what comes next.

This is her life.

Nothing more than a meaningless, mindless run of just enough. Just enough things to do to keep her from getting insanely bored and just enough to make her life a little interesting. Just enough interest in sports to not look dumb and just enough aloofness to sci-fi to keep her from ostracized.

She doesn't feel alive and yet neither does she feel dead.

She wonders if this is the worst fate.

Nothing I do can change who I am or what I will become. My life's path was written before today before yesterday and even before time.

I am what I was chosen to be.

Nothing more nothing less.

It is my will that sets my life in motion, mine alone. It is my choices that send me down the paths I thread and my actions allow me to reach my goals.

I am my own person.

I rule my own world.

Coffee

Sometimes he remembers the first time they met, the way Evan was so engrossed in whatever book he was reading that he didn't notice the back he ran into at the cafe. Sometimes he remembers the first time they fought, the way they bought hurled accusations and insults thoughts that should have remained unspoken; he always remembers the reconciliation. Sometimes Leo remembers the last time they saw each other. He remembers the accusations, the regret, the tears, the desolation and pain; he always remembers not being the one to say goodbye. Sometimes, just sometimes, Leo regrets ever meeting Evan.

They tell me I shouldn't pursue this notion of mine, that I should simply forget any and all thoughts of him and get on with my life, they tell me its a useless situation and ask me why I continue torturing myself and working hard to get his attention.

I wish I could tell them it's because I know him, because I've spent time with him and see a side of him no one else has. I wish I could tell them its because he wants this as much as I do, as badly as I do. I wish I could them exactly what they wanted to hear, but this is the thing; whatever it is I have with him is worth more than anything that happened before and I don't know why.

It's strange

The little flutter in the pit of my being. The pounding in my chest,
the swaying of my soul. All things I wanted to rid myself of,
all things I thought made me.


Yet here I am.


Speaking to the heaven. The earth. The wind,
the sun, the moon. Anything and everything. Hoping,
praying, pleading. Wishing.

Just wishing.

Reloj

It’s Five a.m. and the people coming in ask the rain not to fall and the sun not to burn.

It’s Eight a.m. and the people coming in grab their coffee and rush through traffic.

It’s noon and the people coming grab what they find and eat.

It’s Three p.m. and the people coming in grab a bag of Doritos and a can of Pepsi. There’s nothing to eat at home.

It’s Six p.m. and the people coming in look for their bounty and hurry back home.

It’s Eight p.m. and the people outside ask if they can just grab some milk.

Regrets

It's strange.

The little fluttering in the pit of my stomach. The pounding in my chest. The swaying of my soul. All things I wanted to rid myself of. All things I thought made me tame, pliable, weak.

Yet here I am.

Speaking to the Heavens. The Earth. The Wind, the Sun, the Moon. Anything and everything. Hoping, praying, pleadin. Wishing.

Just wishing.

Ojos

I could never stand looking into your eyes.
They always managed to entrance me.
I could never hope to achieve anything more
than lose myself everytime I saw them.

Once, as a child...

Once, as a child, I tried to make friends with some of the other children at court. I hadn’t a need to do so before. I’d always been quite content to spend my time alone, or with member of the house staff, but my father insisted I interact with some of his councilor’s children, “it would strengthen your position with the future assembly,” he said. I didn’t understand why it was necessary. I would never hold enough power within this kingdom to need such associations, even were my father to leave the throne . Yet he was my father. I wanted, above all else, to please him, and it was with this intention in my heart, that I went out to play with the children. Unfortunately, the palace children had no desire whatsoever to acquaint themselves with me.