Plug: [Excerpts]

[Plug: "Anniversary" (circa 05.20.05; 2:21am)]

   

   Comb my fingers through the strands of your soul.  Wreck...wretched bliss that pushes me against bed sheets and takes tangles affection to another level.  Essence blooms my nose with sour candy and sweet lollipops.  Slow hips and lips cannot talk.  Hushed my own with pleasing sounds, favored fleshed...like going down.  Fingers and crevices hidden beneath beauty; you whom so rough on the part I can't see.  But understand I...so blind to be.  Ajar eyelids picturing clouds with stars.  I love puppy eyes that ooze satisfaction; why must your lips pierce me so or words flow to which I cannot know?  Over phone calls receiver, your love has turned me into a true believer.  It is without you I cannot breathe or flutter pencil wings to a verse.  Closing my radio to hear no more songs because you are my last and my first.  I miss you impeccable Venus or my Sun Goddess.  Cleansing yourself inside of my palms.  But in the late hour, where moons hide behind clouds, there is nothing but calm.  So come back to me and disturb my peace.  Without you I am nothing...practically deceased.

[Plug: My Story; pg. 21]

So much can happen in that period where you let yourself stay numb; where you only wake to go to the bathroom and eat when your stomach is too cramped not to.  For the last year I have let myself endure that pain like the breeze on the cold winter nights.  I despise the person I have become and the heart that no longer yearns to be mended in the face of adversity.  So much has happened.  The days trickle by and I have lost their worth in the ticking hours of the clock.  Yesterday I woke to the trash men screaming at a little girl for playing in the street.  Here I am, nearly three o’clock in the afternoon, playing games with my pillowcase.  Such a tragedy.  I do have that one thing to look forward to.  Lee is coming home for vacation in a couple of days.  I have missed her unbearably.  She was away on the west coast for nearly six months before she decided to tell her family that she wasn’t going to be coming back.  She had found some gentleman that was to her liking and was frankly the only reason she had to live.  I commended her, obviously, and told her that love only last in the eyes of the blind.  She did not listen, obviously.  She calls this a vacation back home, but I can sense the bomb that’ll drop once she hits the asphalt of the airport; how she is tired of the fast pace of the other side and she misses home.  Which are all code for he broke my heart and I do not know how to cope.  I loved her all along.  For the five years that we already knew each other…and yet, just today…I realized it.  Love is a hell of a thing.  Fruitful in the eyes of the blind someone once told me.


[Plug: Journal Entry, 2007]
Even when I’m sleeping, when it is worse, I can still feel the heat in my face going up and down.  My blood rushing to certain muscles to fulfill the impatience.  I don’t know how much of it I can really account for.  But I started first with just tiny glimpses.  Daydreams if you will…of her.  Then they would slowly dominate my mind and thoughts and the only way to block it out was to snap back.  Clenching my teeth, I’d always grind away the pain.  {That accounts a lot for the ravenously loud knocking of my upper and lower jaw against one another in the midnight hours}.  Now that grind has a shortage in it.  The pain doesn’t travel that far down my face anymore.  Maybe I smoked away all the nerve endings in my mouth and neck.  Either way it’s just a tic.  An iota of regret and remorse and years of pain, sweat and tears