Christmas

I watch his body move, weaving past the other people, his hand wrapped firmly around mine.

"Where are we going?" I question. But he just keeps walking forwards, towing me along. We've been at this for a solid twenty minutes. Winding our bodies through the ever growing crowd of evening shoppers. And then he stops. Jerking me to a halt beside him, he raises his hand and points to the display case resting in front of us. The florescent white lights attack my eyes, obscuring my vision with a thousand colorful spots. I squint my eyes and try to see what he is so intent on showing me. As my eyes adjust, I spot a small bird. A finch to be exact. Innately carved from a piece of crystal. It's amazing.

"For you." He says, pulling me close and kissing me. And all I can do is stare at him. Watch as his lips curl into his crooked smile, and his eyes shine with excitement. And I can't help but to be absorbed by his charm and optimism. It's Christmas after all.

Watching

I watch as his feet pound the ground, pushing him further. The muscles in his legs contracting and stretching. He's oblivious to my scrutiny, focused intently on the game. At that moment he turns to look at me, catching the wonder in my eyes before I can hide it. But he doesn't ask, he turns his gaze back to the playing field and immerses himself once more. I'm glad he doesn't ask. There would be too many reasons. No way to describe why I am so completely and utterly absorbed.

Now he's watching me. His eyes following my body as I move. What does he see. The slight limp, the awkward stance, the effort not to trip. And yet I don't believe he would ever say anything. Just that look.

Friends

Dancing. Moving to the beat, swaying, turning, rhythmic sequences. You're hand against my back, pushing me and pulling me, teaching me the movements. Is it really what made you first notice me. Is it what pulled your eyes away from all the others and focused their pale hazel gaze on me. Is it what made you want to press your lips to mine.

It amazes me that something I am so passionate about, drew you to me. It caused you to pause and consider me. To wonder who I really was. I'm not the person everyone makes me out to be. They all seem to have an opinion of me, but if they knew me, would they be so rash to judge. Would they actually assume the outlandish things that they do now. Let them talk. I know the people who know me. I have people that will always be there, and they will always understand. They are neither rash nor ignorant. They are amazing, and darling you are perfect.

Hands

Smooth hands. Pressed together. Pushing against each other. Wrapped around small hands. Small hands wrapped around big hands. Your big hands wrapped around my small hands. Yours smooth, mine rough. Yours talented, musical, agile. Mine thin, and frail. But yet they fit together so perfectly. As if the spaces between my fingers were made to be filled with yours. And now we walk, hand in hand, past everything that watches us. Watching. Waiting. Wanting. Wanting to tear us apart. Waiting to see us stumble and fall. Watching us as we walk past, clear and free.

Rough hands. Pressed together. Pushing against one another. Wrapped around big hands. Big hands wrapped around small hands. My small hands wrapped around your big hands. Mine rough, yours smooth. Yours are strong, mine weak, but together we hold the world.

You are changing me

You had your arms wrapped around me, my head against your chest. I can hear your heart beat. Steady and strong. Can you hear mine, the rapid thrumming of excitement that consumes me. Every moment seems to change everything. Your thumb brushes my hand and my mind goes blank, my senses are lost and I see only you. I see your eyes, clear and bright, gazing at me, finding something. Are you finding the emotion written so carefully on my face. The emotion that I have never felt before. It's all so new, so special, so fragile. And you. You're so new. You change everything. Every moment, every thought, every action. You stand there and watch the conflict in my eyes.

You have changed all my plans. I don't know where to go any more. Should I stay and let you leave, let you go and never forget you. Or should I be the one to find you and have you by my side. Never having to remember, because you'll always be there to keep me from forgetting. I won't forget you. No matter the distant. No matter the hours you have been gone. No matter what you do, you will always have a part of my heart.

Trip

We have surely been here before. Standing this way, swaying to the beat. You leading me, me following you, as best I can. Your steps are quick and precise, mine slow and off beat. But you smile all the same, you tell me I am the one who is good at this. When we both know it's you. I know that you are the expert, the one who can move without thinking. Your feet perfectly in time, your movements quick and nimble, your body graceful and beautiful.

What do I look like next to you. Do I seem regular in comparison. Am I awkward and out of place at your side, with your arm curled around me. If only we could be more in balance, we could stand side by side and seem similar. But you will always out shine, though I must say, I hope you always do. I don't want to be the one to destroy your beauty. I don't want to be the one who causes you to lose you grace, and fall. I want to be the one who stands beside you, my hand in yours, waiting to catch you if you should trip.

Perfect

He stands in front of me. Tall, strong, perfect. His arms are open, waiting and warm. His eyes are on my face, studying me. I fold myself into him, pressing my hand against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his strong heart. Within myself, I can hear the frantic pounding of my own. Jumping against my ribs. I'm nervous, but it feels like we have done this a thousand times. Like we have stood, hearts together, a thousand times, under a thousand starry nights.

He pulls me closer and leans toward me. His warms lips are pressed to mine, his sweet smell surrounding me, holding my close. We are here. In this moment. Alone. Yet together at the same time. Like the moon and it's orbit on earth. We are around each other, no effort, no practice, just perfection. And we stand there, broken and whole, frozen and warm, happy and finding happiness. He is my happiness, my warmness, my completeness. Perfect.

Threats

Threats. Pain, both mental and physical. You think they will hurt me, but you seem to be mislead. You think that I will break, but I won't. I know who I am, and I know who you are, and you are not a threat. But you're empty. You have nothing standing behind you. No sense of purpose, no direction, no true intention. Yet you blame this on me. You blame me for hurting you, and I know I did, but I never intended to. And I will not let you change me. I am with him. He is with me. I'm sorry if that hurts, but I will not change how I feel. And I am more unwilling to change how he feels. I will not turn my back on the one perfect thing in my life, just to make you like me.

True friends are those who know the song in your heart, and can sing it back to you, word for word, when you have forgotten.
-A.S.

Dance

This seems too good to be true. Is it so wrong to be waiting for everything to change. Waiting to be tripped. Waiting for all this to end. I don't ever want to have to face that. I want this the way it is. Fragile and perfect. The way it always starts, is what we will always be. Never changing, watching the seasons change around us. White. Pink. Golden. Bloody. We will watch as the world grows, changing, learning, deceiving. But we shall remain the same. Two bodies brought together by something bigger than both.

Something different awaits us. Some new day is waiting on the edge of the horizon. Blond rays stretching across this small valley, warming, comforting, safe. Stretch out your nimble fingers, watch as the sun dances across them. Catching your beauty and throwing it across me. Set them to the keys and play a song that we can dance to. And we will dance.

Being here

This is so strange,
eyes open on a barren range.

This is so new,
my being here with you.

This is so queer,
the way everything is clear.

This is so new,
my being here with you.

This is so amazing,
my eyes, the stars, are dazing.

This is so new,
my being here with you.

New

I like this new. I don't want the old again. I want everything to stay the way it is. Just perfect. You beside me, and me beside you. I like this new, this feeling of falling, but knowing that someone is there to catch me. It's different. But I like it all the same.

I never thought this would happen. I never thought I would be the girl you choose. This is all so different for me. I never have luck like this. Maybe that's all it is. Luck. But I'm quite all right with that fact. I would rather it be a lucky chance, than an utter disaster any day.

Something special

Something special is what we are,
something new that will take us far.

Something amazing is your name,
a brand new player in an aged game.

Something brilliant is that smile,
that makes me willing to walk a mile.

Something Gorgeous is your beauty,
that keeps me gazing, all be it mutely.

Something special is what you are,
something new will take us far.

We're changing

His hand stretches closer, curling around mine, warming the cool, pale skin of my thin fingers. My body instinctively learns toward his, cutting the distance between us in half. He closes the distance, pressing his warm lips against mine, his sweet breath mingling with my own. There is no resistance between us, nothing to hold us back, nothing to stop us.

It wasn't always this way. There was a time when he was just another body, nothing of importance. Everything seems to have changed since those days. We don't have to be as careful.Hiding what should be known to the world. It was safer to hide though, better to protect each other from the world. We kept each other safe, while every one walked around us, past us, suspecting nothing. Then again there was nothing for them to see, we were so careful. Considering every move before it was made, every step was met with judgment and hindrance. And now everything is different. There is no need to tip toe through a room, no need to talk in hushed voices. We are free. Free to be who we are, both together and alone.

The end of forever

This is dangerous. This feeling that consumes me. It so unbelievably dangerous. But I just can't seem to get enough of it. It's addictive. A substance that I don't want to lose. A substance that has taken root in my mind, and has snaked through the channels of my brain. I would die without it. Every nerve would lose it's sense. No smell. No taste. No touch. Nothing. Just a solid, black, emptiness.

An emptiness that I used to fear. That meant only pain and numbness, only despair and anguish. Has it changed? Has it become something that could save me. A safety net for when I fall from this high. When I finally lose the steady ground and plummet to an almost certain end. Will it be the one that I can still trust when all this is over. Because I know there will be an end. There is always an end, nothing can last forever. Because even forever has an end.

No heaven

Stumbling, tripping, falling, running on. Over and over again, an endless cycle of monotony. Sun in my eyes, feet off the ground, this is all it seems to be. Lost and disorientated. Everything seems more confusing than it needs to be. Why not just those simple words. Just a quick answer is all I need. Some reassurance that I'm not completely drowning in this. Some sense of balance as the waves crash over my head, thunderous and rough against the scarlet of my hair. Pushing me farther away from the shore, farther from safety, farther from him.

Can he see me struggling to breath. Fighting against the raw edges of lungs to keep life within myself. Where do I go if this ends. There is no heaven and no hell. No one out there who would pull me from beneath the sea and breath life back into my cold body. He could be that one. The one to entwine our fingers and enchant me. The one to dance with me, into the night, under the stars. If only...

Tripping

What is it? That stuttering inside of my chest. The uneven pounding of something caged within my ribs. It's an odd sort of feeling. Almost like tripping. That moment where you realize that you are falling and there isn't anything you can do to catch yourself. You just have to let go and accept the consequences. How ever agonizing and raw it is, it's meant to be held. So I will reach my arms out and embrace this frail new reality. This truth that has changed everything within my own life. The way I use to function has become only a hum in the buzz of every day chaos. A distant memory that fades faster and faster with the approaching day.

This has to be a good thing though. Or maybe it's something more awful than I could ever imagine, something that will destroy me completely. No chance of escape, no surrender, no freedom. But maybe that's the change I need, a constant. Something that keeps me still, holds me in one place. Something that grounds me, pulling me back towards earth when my head gets to high in the clouds, searching for a lie.

It's Fair

This is so fragile. Everyday is a new experience, a new fascination, a new adventure. And oddly enough I can't wait. I'm not used to this. I don't know what I should be doing. Are we in the same boat? Is this what every thing has come down to? Me on the edge of everything, unbalanced and nervous, you safely tucked away in the arms of reality.

It's fair in the end. Too bad.

This will grow stronger. Blossom from the bud, to a rose. Full of beauty, mystery, and magic. Magic is what this could need. A little nudge here and there to keep everything balanced. Even. Fair.

Safe

It's all fun and games and until you break a heart. When you have successfully crushed the one thing that gets everyone through their day, that is when you have reached rock bottom. But it seems that you can take my heart, wring it out like a dirty rag, throw it to the ground, and still I feel an overwhelming need to stand by your side and protect you from the big bad world.

Friends though is all we are these days, but to tell the truth it is honestly better this way. Friends is easier in the end. We can talk about everything, no need for secrets because they won't break our hearts anymore. They are simply facts these days. No need to lie. No room for attempting to protect ourselves from the other. We are already so raw there is nothing left to hide. No secrets that would hurt us, no truths that would harm us, no tales that would find us torn apart once again. It's safer this way. No broken hearts, no tears, no gaping holes that keep our lungs from drawing frigid air. Safe. What I wanted all along. Too bad it took 12 years to get there.

Maybe Beautiful

The pale rays of the afternoon sun glint off the stunning white of his smile. My breath catches in my lungs, and my palms begin to sweat. How can this be happening? This doesn't happen to me, this never happens to me. I must be dreaming. There is no plausible reason for this angel to be talking to me. The slight lilt of his voice pulling me closer to him, inhaling the scent of his worn jacket. It's too much, too sudden, too real. I can't deal with something like this, this happiness...it's reaching for me and dragging me in, deeper than I ever planned to go. But there is no backing out now. No way that I could forget the grace of his walk or the agility of his thin body. No way out. And I'm quite all right with that.

He questions me. Studying my face. What is he looking for? What does he see in the depth of my hazel eyes? Can he see the secrets I try so hard to protect, the insecurity that rules my days? What does he see in the lines etched across my young face. The lines of worry, of fright, of sadness. Does he know what they mean? Does he understand how much I have been through, and what a miracle it is that I am still trying so hard to survive?

Maybe one day he will know. He will understand why it is so hard for me to trust. So difficult to be willing to fall and not know if anyone will catch me. Maybe one day he will be the one to catch me.

My heart is in your hand.

Heart in Hand,
you stand.
Mouth set to Talk,
you walk.
Soul on Sleeve,
you leave.

Hand on heart,
you leave your mark.
Talk set to lip,
my strings you snip.
Sleeve over soul,
you've reached your goal.

I love you Dear

We use to be so close to each other. We use to walk arm in arm like nothing in the world could stop us, but my dear, I think something has. Some unknown force has pulled at our very core, stretching us and straining us in different directions. Tugging on the fabric of our kinship until it became tattered. Too frail to survive. Maybe with time we will find each other again, we will be in unison once again. Maybe one day we will dance again, free spirits intertwined.

I wish you hadn't listened to them. To those vultures so intent on ruining everything. All they seem to do is circle above me, waiting for the moment I trip and I can't pull myself up. And that is why I need you dear, I need you to stand by my side and help me up. If they hadn't gotten to you, you would still be mine. I would still be a part of your heart, just like you are such a big part of mine. I need a reason to show you how much you're worth, a sign that you would listen to me. But it seems such things elude me. Peeking from the shadows, never close enough to touch, always too close to stand. Believe me dear, I would pull you from those shadows and we would walk together. The way we use to, they way we should. Please dear, tell me that you will be mine once again. For without you, I find no point in loving.

Singing with no words.

Yet another day spent drowning in the monotone colors of life. Where is the vibrancy, the brush strokes that color our cheeks. Why can't they be painted on the clothes of such a sad day. Just because it's formal day, doesn't mean that you can't still have a little color. I know black pants look good, even I wore them, but at least I also wore a plum purple shirt. The only thing I was worried about was the fact that it might clash with my rocket red hair, but thank goodness, it didn't. It looked quite good actually.

People these days seem afraid to wear colors, and they shouldn't be. A nice color can be what makes that manic Monday outfit, just have to give it a chance. Try a little variety. I must admit that I worry about what people will think of what I am wearing, but then I remember that I enjoy it, does it really matter what others think. They aren't you, and if they judge you so harshly without knowing you, can they really be worth your time. They certainly aren't worth mine.

So what I'm trying to get at is, wear a little color every now and again. It really won't hurt. Just find a color that works with your skin tone, body, and hair color, and everything should be just fine. Be the brush, paint yourself in your own image, not what others see.


-- M. Gaiesky