Tuesday, November 10, 2009

In the Rain

the night was unkind
and dreams
scattered their sharp fragments
to the far corners of my mind
and I woke to grey, chill
and lingering feelings
I went out
into the rain
just out
to be in it
for a little while
in the rain
and the silence
that wasn't
in the stillness
that wasn't
and oh, the rain fell
soft, soaking drops
like fingers tracing my lines
running along my arms
brushing my face
little tender strokes
light as feathers
kisses falling where they may
they steamed
where they landed
no match
for my internal flame
out in the rain
I felt you
for a little while
in the rain


I'm an addict.

It's true.

I have an addiction.

It started out innocent enough...just a little bit here and there, just for fun now and then.

After a while, though, I wanted more. I started looking for excuses to get it, to get my fix.

Then it wasn't enough to have a little here and there. No, I wanted more, and more often. Every day, in fact.

Pretty soon, it was all I could think of - the next fix. In between times, I was watching the clock, thinking about the next time. It never lasted long enough, and I found myself trying to get it any way I could. I couldn't concentrate on anything but the next hit. Even in the middle of a fix, I would think about how long it would last, and when I could get my next one. When I couldn't get it, I was grumpy, depressed, and unpleasant to be around. I couldn't sleep if I had to go without it.

I had a couple of days where it was 24/7, and it was amazing. Going back to my old use pattern was hard, and it wasn't the same. After a few months, I needed another big score...four days this time, and I had to share, but it was still amazing.

I love my addiction. I have no intention of getting clean from it. From him.


He's under my skin, and that's fine with me. Anyway, I'm pretty sure the Betty Ford Center doesn't have anything to cure love. Thank the Gods.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

It's a Cold and It's a Broken...

Sometimes, I think I am a curse.

Not cursed. A curse.

No good comes of knowing me. People have perfectly adequate lives until I come along, and then...then things start going wrong.

Sometimes I think I'd be doing the world a favor to hide myself away, keep my poison contained in myself. Every life I touch becomes toxic in some way. I'm helpless to stop it, can't even clean up the mess I can't help but feel I've made.

Sometimes I think I really should just keep myself to myself.

Oddly, I was just speaking to a friend who feels something of the same thing about himself.

Despite how he feels about himself...I feel blessed to know him. In him, I find fortune's gift...in him, I find comfort, and hope. With him I feel loved, cherished, comforted, free, powerful, empowered.

I don't want to be a curse in this man's life.

Just once, dear Goddess...blessed mother...she from whom all life came...just once, could I please, please, be a blessing?

And Sir? If you see this? You didn't cause it. Truly. This? It's my nature.