The D Spot

I think it really is true that the unknown is worse than the known.
If you can see what casts the shadow,
you can at least adjust the angle of the light.
Too many lurking variables
without enough random chance (to steal a phrase).
And where am I left but surfing the net
looking for answers without any proof
and hoping for miracles just in case its true.

lay me in the soft grass
worship at my feet
show me the stars in your eyes, man.
and perhaps our souls shall meet.

Take me in the rain, man
Take me in the snow.
Take me in the sunshine
And make my shadows go.

Hold me in the dark night
and tighter in the day
Keep your body close to mine
to keep the dreams at bay.

And if I find you please me
and if I find you’re true
then promise that you’ll never leave
and I’ll give the same to you.

The secrets that the heart holds
and the holder of the heart
must bind like salt and water
and swear to never part.

So in the midnight hours, Man
when I scream and shake,
Find me in the shadows then
and kiss me til I wake.

Walking to my car in the dark last night
air like wet wool, pressing against my skin
A slow drip of moisture down my throat, between my breasts.
Lighting flashes, strobe-like around and above me.
In the distance, a far off rumble of thunder, a warning
of things to come.
I walk faster.
Shapes near me, hovering at the edges of my vision yet I
dare not turn my head or give them reason to notice me.
Cigarette smoke wafts past me,
the acrid scent sticking to me in the damp heat.
I make it to my car at last,
surviving yet another long dark walk.
The rain starts as I turn my key.

Marrow red and thick and I watched as the
long needle went in slowly slowly
metal to bone.
With a struggle the bone breaks off
a small bit to the catheter, the tweezers, the lab…
all your cells contained here in this little vial
these small tubes.
Mysteries will unravel with the unravelling of
marrow
and bone.
In a lab somewhere hundreds of miles away
some namelss tech in a white coat and gloves
will probe you for secrets
expose your health
or illness.
That tech holds in their hands our happiness
all in that one little vial
and the couple of tubes.
But here and now,
you relax,
floating on the fentanyl-induced high
and flipping channels, unconcerned.

the leaves fall softly outside in the brisk breeze. I huddle in my blanket, stretched out on the sofa. I can see out the window from here; I can watch the browning grass as the last remaining birds attempt to find sustenance from the hard, dry earth.
I shiver and pull my blanket higher, resting my head on my pillow.
Moving my arms causes the pain to spike from wrist to shoulder and I try not to wince. Outward shows of pain are not encouraged here after all.
The pain in my shoulders radiates to my back and I wish wish wish for a comforting touch, a gentle massage or just a warm hand between my shoulderblades. Anything to take the white throb away for a while.
How I long to be up and out. How I wish I could just get up, go somewhere.
But the cold is in my muscles, bones, blood.
My legs are leaden, and hips creak when I try to move them.
And don’t you dare touch them, else I will cry out.
The front door opens, colder air blows in with the arrival of the young ones home from their day.
Breathing deep, I pull off the blanket and stand up.
Hiding, always hiding, the sharp stabbing spikes
up the legs, down the back around the neck
I smile and push back the wince again
hiding always hiding
I begin my day.

and the feelings of large hands
around my throat
air doesn’t move thru
constriction
and the pain in my head
as it fell against the floor
the wall
the window
Cannot scream without
air cannot think without
thought…
cry for help remains internal
and
as I lose consciousness the last thing
I see is
the rage-filled
reddened eyes of
my killer

spirit guide angel soulmate or lover
what does it matter, one from the other?
I crave and I cry with a whisper of sighs
and yet I’ll be alone
until the day I die.
Such tragic verse! So morose a view!
I can imagine it now
how
I’ve alienated you.
So run screaming for shelter and hide in the shade
I’m drenched in the mess of the life I have made.
There’s no truth in the garden no clearance of path
My feelings can harden, I can weep or just laugh
Im lost with no map…
Soulmate or lover or friend or acquaintance
Im just such high-maintenance.
Im not surprised that no one is home
Im not surprised to find myself alone.
Im shivering and sad to the bone
Waiting and watching while tears softly weep
How much I miss you
The one I never knew….
The one I have yet to meet.

iI am walking down another corridor. It is cold here, and my hands hurt with it. The walls are hard stone, slightly damp. The floor is smooth stone, or maybe marble. In the dark it’s hard to tell. This may be a dank corridor, it may be an old ballroom. There is no light to know.
The blackness wraps around me, and I am scared. I don’t remember where the door is. I grope along the cold, damp walls, hoping to find something, someone, to get me out of this place.
When I suddenly encounter a hand, I jump and gasp.
Ssh I hear. You are safe. I am here.
The hand grasps mine tighter and then disappears.
Tears threaten. You are here and gone in the space of a heartbeat.
I heard your voice. I know I didn’t imagine it. How could you come and go like that? How could you leave me alone in this unknown place?
I wish for a savior, a saint or a sinner. Someone to show me the way.
Yet all that I have now is the shallow echo of my own breath, and one hand slightly warmer than the other.
I continue to edge around this corridor. Somehow I must find my way.

writing for the sake of writing embellishing life with curli-cue words.
Standing alone at the edge of a cliff and
wondering yet if anyone’s heard.
The music the melody the song in my head
I ask you for comfort you say you’re going to bed
and I watch you lay peacefully while I stumble through life now
balancing all on the edge of the knife now
and wobbly and shaky emotionally fragile I watch you sleep softly
while I cry in the dark.
Mourning the loss of the spark..
These never-seen pages of angst and of lust
of poorly made poetry and
stories, they must
stay hidden in pages of internet forest
where you’ll never see them, but then of course
no one will read this these dreams and ambitions
the lonely-heart rambles of a housewife who’s smitten
with daydreams and wishes that can’t truly come true
because after all, I’m committed to you.

like butterflies walking on broken glass
or
stars falling in tandem
I feel this unsettling unnerving
something.
Something big is coming something
bad or good I don’t know can’t tell.
I wake with a sense of
foreboding anticipation
Not knowing if it safe enough to rise
or if I should hide under blankets for the day.
Dreams haunting daylight
but I can’t decode the images
starlight and water and
rain and sun.
I race through my daylight hours
waiting for night’s protection.