I knew this day was coming, the day I’d have to say goodbye. How will I be able to? You are mine. You were my yes in a sea of no’s, my familiar in a room of strangers, my friend in isolation.
Like a rainbow after a rainstorm, you gave me new hope. Hope that me, just as I was could be enough. It wasn’t the way I looked or what I could do. It was just me that you wanted there, real and unfiltered.
But now I must say goodbye. The love I have for you will never die but it must fade. I have to make room for the one who can be forever. I wanted it to be you, I pleaded for it to be you. But my heart has shot past you. I couldn’t be to you what you were for me, and maybe I wasn’t meant to.
And so I release you. You my nearly beloved, my almost paramour, my all but lover.
*image: Michael Phelan
They are spirits chained to the physical world
living in chaos trying to be normal
wearing masks pretending to be human
donning suits by day
dancing under the moon by night
boundless souls searching for their home
Lady Urbana, tries to keep her values in a valueless world.
Her sensibility in the senseless city
Her class in a classless society
This piece was painted by South African street artist Faith47 on the side of a Portland building. When I saw it I instantly was drawn to it. The woman seemed so out of place in the urban setting around her. She has on this long dress and her is up in a style that has long past. I thought, what would a girl like her think of the world today?
All those things I wrote, I wrote for you. Because for a reason I may never fully understand, I adore you. And because I could see that you didn’t really think you were worthy of someone truly loving you and you are.
I just wanted to be someone who didn’t need anything from you, but gave to you.
I wanted to be your best friend.
I wanted you to live for something more, something real.
I wanted to peer inside your soul.
And so in case I never get the chance to tell you, I want you to know that you are worthy, you are a gem and I love you.
We call ourselves free human beings but are we really?
How can we be, when darkness is at every turn?
Gone are the days of going to a concert, the big game, the mall or simply out with with friends as strictly a social event. Now it’s rolling the dice with your life.
Gone are the days when you could be sure of your safety around those sworn to keep you safe. Now when you see those lights in your rear view there’s a chance it could be your last ride.
Gone are the days of leaders who really were for America, for freedom. Now we have bigots who hide behind patriotism.
Gone are the days where you could walk into school and get the education you needed. Now you have to worry about walking into a death trap.
Terrorists, extremists, murderers, bigots, and down right psychopaths everywhere we look.
Gone are the days…but did the good days ever exist? No I don’t think they did.
The world was already on a flaming path to hell, we’re just experiencing a rise in the heat.
I don’t know how many times we passed each other, seeing each other but not really seeing each other. Or how many times we exchanged generic greetings. A meaningless “How are you?” or “Take Care.” Then one day for some reason you smiled at me, a true genuine smile. And in that second I saw you, really saw you, as if I was seeing you for the first time.
Life hasn’t been the same since.
I spend my waking hours asleep, dreaming of something better. Something better than the stasis in which I live.
A place where I don’t fantasize about clawing at my own skin just to see a bit red blood in my colorless existence.
Where I don’t want to scream till I lose my voice just to hear a sound in this silent void.
From sun up till sun down I live in this abyss where nobody hears or sees me.
I’m only alive when I’m asleep.
Sometimes I love my reflection, other times I hate it.
Sometimes I wished that I loved it more, other times I wished I hate it more.
Most times I don’t even recognize my reflection.
Parts of my life require me to look a certain way, it’s drab and it’s beige.
The world expects to look a certain way, it’s primped and it’s polished.
But somewhere between the world and life’s requirements is what I actually look like. My actual reflection.
It has no rules, no requirements.
It’s not primped and doesn’t have to be polished
It changes with my whims and obsessions.
It has no dress code.