Weeping

I weep,
for the family I will never know.
For the laughter of children I will never have,
for the wife that will be mine.

I weep,
for the life I dream of,
the job that I love
and money I will never have.

I weep,
for the fullfillment of being a father,
for the satisfaction of being a lover,
for the reward of supporting my family.

I weep.

And no matter how hard I try, I cannot stop.
So I put on my mask and face the world.
A joker on the outside, dying on the inside.
What masks do you wear?

Silence

In silence I watched her, a ghost shadowing his love, forever chained to this earth by her. I could not speak to her, for to do so would undo this spell. And so I force myself to not speak.

Oh, the things I wanted to say. How much I missed her, how good she looked, how I liked her hair, how I love looking deep into her eyes. All these things and more, yet my mouth moved not.

I wanted to run to her, and sweep her off her feet. Kiss her deeply and hold her tight. Whisper sweet promises into her ear, tales of what the future holds. I want to hear her laughter, softly caressing my ears, filling my heart with joy. I want to drink her in until I have had my fill and cannot drink anymore, for surely that will be my death.

I remained silent and did nothing. No eye contact, no smiles, stoned faced. She noticed, she watched, I knew. I can't change some things, so I just take what I can get.

My eyes were overjoyed, they got to drink her in. My ears rejoiced with her laughter. My soul screamed her name. My lust cannot be sated.

Such is life.

Lust

He stared at her longingly across the room. It had been months since they last spoke. She had told him then that she never wanted to see him again. And while it had broken him, he loved her so much he gave her what she wanted.

In all those months, he had never called, never wrote, no e-mails. Nothing. He ached every day to know her touch again, to hear her voice again, to hold her in his arms and look deep into her eyes. She wouldn't have to say a word, the love would either be there, or it wouldn't. It would answer all his questions. He just knew it.

But it wasn't meant to be. She never tried to get in touch with him, and while his passion never dissipated, time had numbed its hold on him. He had started moving on with his life, but he could never forget. There were many nights when he would wake calling her name. But she was never there to comfort him.

And so life went, the months had gone on forever it seemed. Then a casual invite to a party, a friendly gesture by a co-worker and there she was. His angel, his mistress, the object of his desires, right there before him. But out of touch.

Of course he could say nothing to her. What was there to say? "I miss you. I need you"? She wouldn't even make eye contact. If he stared any longer at her, it would be noticed and commented on. You didn't look at someones wife with that kind of intensity. It started trouble that he didn't need.

A waiter walked by with glasses of champagne. He grabbed two, downing the first, he started looking around. He had known this party was a bad idea, but he acquiesced to his co-workers repeated invitation. Over the last few months he had withdrawn into himself. He just didn't feel like part of the world anymore. He knew something was missing. But didn't know how to fix it. The obvious solution to him simply wasn't a solution at all, and just would create hundreds more problems.

Finding no one else that he knew in the crowd, he moved to the balcony. He needed some air. He wanted to leave, but to do so this early, and without speaking to his co-worker (the host), would just be a rudeness he would never stand in himself. Tortured, he fled outside to gather himself and pass a few minutes. He was hoping she would move away to another room, or leave, he didn't care which, but her mere presence was distracting him to no end.

As he crossed the room, he could feel her eyes following him like laser beams. He emerged outside and went immediately to the railing, setting his drink down on a table as he passed. He simply couldn't breathe. Grasping hold of the railing with one hand, he pulled his tie loose with the other. He was shaking, he couldn't believe the effect she had on him. Months, almost a year since he had touched her, and she was causing him to have an anxiety attack.

Putting both hands on the railing, he leaned forwards taking in gulping deep breaths, From behind him, he heard, "Really? You would jump just at the sight of me? Do I cause you that much disgust?" Her voice froze him in place. "Surely this was a dream. This couldn't be happening." he thought. His heart was thundering in his ears. He had the idle thought that "this was it, this is how I go".

Before he could gather himself to answer, she spoke again, this time in a low voice where only he could hear her, "No, love, this is no dream. I am no ghost. I am here, right now. Turn around and look me in the eyes, and you will know." 

Slowly he turned, she was standing inches from him, her face so close that he was staring directly into her eyes. He could see the tears streaming down her face, the mascara running. He opened his mouth to greet her, but before he could she shushed him with her finger. 

Once silent, she spoke again, this time in a barely audible whisper. "The day you left, my heart died. I realized my mistake shortly after you walked out the door. I longed for you to call, to write, to return. I knew you would. But you didn't. I have been living every day with the loss of you. As the months went by, I figured I would never see you again. But my friend Vivine invited me to this party, basically dragged me here. I didn't understand why until I saw you walk in the door."

He reached up and gently wiped the tears from her face, but said nothing, waiting for her to continue. "I couldn't breath when I saw you. My whole world stopped. It all came crashing down. I don't know what to do, my life is so messed up..." she trailed off, words failing her, the emotion inside was so strong.

He smiled, and spoke gently. "Tonight is tonight, tomorrow is tomorrow. Let us live tonight for tonight and tomorrow will wait until tomorrow." And with that, he lifted her chin and kissed her so deeply.

Ice

The water stung it was so cold. It felt like drops of fire on his skin. It was electrifying. It let him know he was alive.


Stepping fully into the shower, the cold water ran down his skin in rivulets. Gently washing away all the sweat and filth he had accumulated. He never really understood how he got so dirty when he tried to stay so clean, but the fact always remained. 


Bracing himself, even though his skin was already going numb, he pushed his head into the shower's spray. He experienced an intense shiver as his body's core temperature drop, but only momentarily, and then it started to cool down. 

The water felt good after the hot, humid day he had been through. He could feel the dirt wash out of his hair. He lathered with shampoo and seemed to feel each hair come clean as the water rinsed away the day. 


His shivering had subsided, his skin was white and pale. He knew that this was an effect of the water, he was normally a healthy tan. But with the lighting and the cold water, he seemed to be different. His skin reminded him of her, of how she had looked laying there cold, unresponsive. He could never forget that image, it was imprinted into his brain.


After washing off all the dirt, and cleaning his hands thoroughly, he ran his hands through his hair, he could feel the locks slide easily between his fingers. His hair was long, it was time to get it cut. Or maybe not. He wondered if he could grow it out again. 


His eyes came back into focus on his blue fingertips. It was time to get out before he did himself damage. Shutting off the water, he stepped from the shower into the humid air, immediately sweating again. All the benefits of ice, gone.

Doctor Who?

He had no idea how long it had taken to get to town. Sleep deprivation had blurred everything together. He was no longer sure where he was, but he knew what he needed to do. The burning desire to save her life had given him the strength he needed to get her here. Now, he just had to find the doctor.


Pulling the reins to stop Annie in front of the Doctor's office, he looked back to his love. She seemed the same as before, warm to the touch, and pale. He knew that she needed to see the doctor right away, he hitched Annie to the railing, and hurried as fast as he could to the door. 


Thrusting it open, he peered inside to see women's dresses. This wasn't the doctor's office. As he was gathering his wits, and they were scattered, a large woman came towards him, angrily yelling and waving her arms. Not sure if he was dreaming, or if this was really happening, he peered at the woman, confused as to what she was saying. Finally, her words sank through his sleep-addled mind, she was yelling at him to "shut the door to keep the flies out."


Shaking his head in bewilderment, he struggled to get a word in with the loud large woman yelling at him. The woman paused for breath, and before she could continue, he asked her where the doctor was. The woman stared at him for a minute, as if not quite sure he was playing with a full deck, and told him that the doctor had passed away 2 years ago. She had just bought this building a few months ago. She then started going on about the state the building was in.


Inside he was reeling. The doctor was dead? This couldn't be. He had to have help for his love. And NOW!


"Shut Up!!!" he screamed at the woman. Every head turned towards him, the room was deathly silent. He had crossed the line of decency, but he no longer cared. She was going to die if he didn't get help. 


Explaining that his love was really sick, and needed help, he asked where he could find help. As he told his story, the large woman's face softened and she took pity on him. She told him about the wise woman who lived three streets over. She told him how to find this medicine woman, and how to ask for her help - as she was reclusive.


Then, she ushered him to the door, to help him out and point him in the right direction. Peering into his wagon, she asked him again about his love. "She's right there," he replied frantically, "I need to get her to this medicine woman." The large woman gave him a sharp look as he replied and stared at him for a long second. Finally, she nodded her head, and said simply, "Go." He left in a hurry, quickly untying Annie and heading away, guiding Annie. There wasn't much room where he was going. It would be better this way.


The large woman watched him lead away his horse and the cart. Then she turned around and shut the door. Looking at the other ladies in the room, she said, "I really hope Sadie can help him. There wasn't anyone in the back of that cart. There was nothing but old rags bundled together." The rest of the ladies looked at her in shock. The large woman just nodded her head in agreement. 

Drifts of sleep

The feeling of being stopped is what first woke him from his slumber. It was not the motion he expected. He should be traveling. Going forward. Stopped was the exact opposite of what should be going on. He had to get her to the doctor. 


That thought snapped him back to life. Sitting erect, he looked around bleary eyed. Annie had stopped walking, she was a naturally lazy animal and if he wasn't going to push her, she would just as soon stop by the side of the road to graze than to pull a heavy cart. 


He gazed towards the sun and then back to ground, trying to judge the shadows. He had no idea how long he had slept, and even though he needed it, he knew he had burned valuable time. He spun around and checked on his love. She was comatose, in a shallow, restless sleep. The fever made her skin warm to his touch. He gently cupped her mouth and poured a little water into it, making her drink some water. He had to keep liquids in her, or she would burn up. 


Satisfied that he had done everything he could to make his love comfortable, he clucked the reins, and Annie started heading towards town, again. He wasn't entirely positive how long he had been asleep, but he didn't think it had been more than an hour, the sun hadn't risen that much. He knew he had to hurry, but if he made the mare walk any faster, she would wear out, and jar his love in the back. 


The slow pace, though, was lulling him into a sleep he could ill afford. He had to get her to the doctor. The longer he waited, the worse it would get. He couldn't lose her. She was his everything, his reason to go in the mornings, his reason to come home at night. He toiled for their well-being, he felt like a man. 


To keep himself awake, he thought back to the first time he realized he loved her. She was dancing to the music of her soul in the moonlight. He had known then that this being, this wonderful, smiling, glorious creature was the light of his life and the balance of his soul. There never would be another. 


From that day forth, he had devoted his life to the betterment of hers. Her wish was his command. He loved her so completely. He left his kooshy job in the city and moved to the country so that they could live free. 


Shaking his head in irony, he thought about the current situation. Having to ride in a cart with a horse to a doctor that is hours away in a town far away. And all for what? To live free? His dreams were rapidly becoming his worst nightmare. 


Looking back to check on his love, he knew that he had to shut that train of thought down. Any negative thinking would be his doom. He had to stay focused and positive so that he could save her. Clucking the reins to hurry Annie along a little faster, he worried about what was wrong with his love, and how he was going to be able to help. It was all that he could.

The gardener

He really wasn't sure when it began. His fascination with growing things. He always had some sort of plants growing up, ivy, petunias, a bonsai tree even at one point. It was his connection to nature in a world so distant from what it should be. A world alien to him. He longed for the open woods. To live in nature as it was intended.

He first saw her at the nursery. He had gone in to get some roses. He had grown so many different type of flowers that he wanted to plant a rose garden. She caught his eye as she bent down to smell a delicate pink rose. His heart was won in that instant, for him it was love at first sight. He could think of nothing else. She stood up straight and looked right at him. He had never felt so exposed before. It was as if she could see into his soul.

After looking at him for a full minute, staring him straight in the eyes, she smiled. His world exploded with that smile. She was an angel. Her dark hair framed a face that delicate but lively, full of life. Her eyes glowed in the dimmed light of the greenhouse, they seemed golden. They entranced him. Breaking away, she turned lithely and pranced away. He watched go, speechless, frozen like a deer in headlights. He had never had an encounter with a female like this before. He knew them from school, but he had kept to himself. He didn't have friends. The plants were his friends. They never complained and they always responded to loving care.

Coming back to himself, he watched her walk into the back, it seemed she worked there. He knew that he would be back every chance he could get. He bought the roses he had come for and went home, planting them for her. He had made sure to buy the very ones she had been smelling. He started his garden for her.

It went on like this for weeks, turning into months. He never could bring himself to ask for her, but every week he came into the store, buying whichever flower she was nearest or in those rare instances when she helped him, he bought whatever she suggested. He could never speak to her though, he was so shy. He simply nodded. Occasionally, he could force out a few words about what he needed. But it was so hard, and there was absolutely no way he could ever manage to work up the nerve to ask her out.

After about a year of this, he made his normal purchase, more roses this time - delicate white ones, he needed them to fill out his garden, he accidentally left his wallet at the store. It just so happened that she found it. She had always thought he was a strange but attractive man. He seemed so shy and innocent, and she could tell that he clearly was infatuated with her. She liked him enough that all he needed to do was ask her out, and she would go. But he never did.

"This is my chance," she thought. "I can go see his home and see where he is putting all those flowers. I can go see what's going on. Then I will know how to approach him." So, after work, she gathered her things and headed out. It was a drizzly day, but that never stopped her before. She tucked his wallet into her jacket pocket and put on her helmet. She loved driving her scooter, it was so economical, and she loved the feel of the wind on her face.

She was moving along at a good pace when the truck came out of nowhere. She never saw it coming. Her last thoughts were that she would never see this beautiful garden he had been creating. She really wanted to see that.

Hopelessness reins

Stretching his aching back, he blinked his eyes. They were so grainy from being up so long, but he was finally done. He surveyed his accomplishment. It had been a long night building, but he felt the cart would hold up to the journey. He feverishly prayed it would. 


Her condition had remained unchanging through the night. He had carried her downstairs, and laid her nearby so he could keep an eye on her while he worked. She had sleep in a shallow sleep, resting without rest. Her fever had never broken, but he wasn't sure if it had gotten worse or not. He really needed the doctor now. She was starting to look peckish, her cheeks starting to sink in and her skin seemed gaunt. 


He took a drink of water, the sun was starting to rise. It was time to get going. It would be a lot quicker trip with the horse and cart, but he was still hours away from getting help. He gently open her mouth, pouring a little water into her open mouth. She swallowed reflexively, coughing slightly. At least her motor skills were still working. That seemed promising to him. At this point, he felt like he was grasping straws to find hope. 


Making sure she was as secure as she could be, he quickly went through the house gathering supplies. He had no idea how long he would be gone. Putting everything into the cart, he went to get the horse. As he walked to the pasture, he looked at the plow staring at him. He should be planting crops. If he didn't get the crops in the ground soon, they would have nothing to eat come winter. Shaking his head, he pulled his mind back to the task at hand, this was simply more important. 


Whistling for the horse, he waited as it came near. He had never gotten around to naming it, even though she had insisted for about 3 months after he first gotten the mare. He didn't want to name the animal. Naming things created an attachment he simply felt he couldn't afford. When the day came to put the horse down, or sell it, he didn't want to be sentimental. She had told him that he was being foolish, and went ahead and named the mare "Annie". Now, he talked to the horse continuously as they worked. Sometimes, he wondered how much Annie really understood. 


Annie nuzzled him pulling him from his thoughts. She wanted her morning treat. He had forgotten all about it, being so pre-occupied with getting the cart ready. It was really an old hay wagon that he had modified, shortened and shored up. He hoped it would hold up for the journey. Apologizing to Annie, he walked her down to the gate. It was time to be going.


Soon, he had Annie hooked up to the "cart". She was used to the plow, but not so sure about his new contraption. Shrugging his shoulders, he just ignored her plaintive looks. We all had to do things we didn't like. Finally having everything in place, he lifted his love into the cart. She weighed practically nothing, but she never really did. Plus he was a large strong man. He could do more than most men, lift more, hold more, work longer, he simply had more stamina. 


Climbing in the cart, he settled himself, and flicked the reins to get Annie going. She gave him a reproachful look, and started pulling. They were off. The sun was just rising above the horizon, spreading its warm rays across the earth. He could tell it was going to be another scorcher. He knew he would have to hurry to get his love to the doctor before the heat of day. He prayed that she made it at least that long. She looked so pale. 


Ripping his gaze away from her face, he turned his attention back to guiding Annie. He needed to make time. He clucked the reins to get a little more speed out of Annie. She wasn't used to going at more than a plod, so she wasn't really pulling as hard as she could.


Time was going to be his enemy. He looked at his love. "Soon, my love, soon I will get you the help you need."

Fantasy

He held her close in the pale light of the moon. He could smell her, almost taste her. The smell of her sweat lingered in his nose. He could smell her desire.
No words were spoken. None were needed. He knew what she needed, she gave him all he desired.
He kissed her hard, he could feel the soft flesh of her lips. He could taste the salt of her sweat.
He held her close and they became one.

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Full Moon

He watched her dance down the path before him. Skipping, and swaying lightly. She danced between puddles of moonlight, her feet making no sound, gliding over the terra. It was amazing to watch, it warmed his heart to see her. He loved spending time with her.

Dancing and laughing ahead of him, she ventured further down the path. He looked at the full moon rising above him. He loved the look of the world on a full moon, especially a large and bright one as this. He could see clearly around, almost like it was broad daylight. It was an eery white light, though, like everything was washed in darkness. The shadows still abounded, but he could see clear enough to walk without a light, and not have to shuffle along - hoping not to trip on a root.

He looked down the path, she had gotten rather far ahead of him, he was walking slow in his revery and she was waiting patiently, swaying in the night breeze. He smiled big again. She made his heart glad, it swelled with feelings of love for her. He wanted nothing more to gather her up in his big arms and kiss her deeply, letting her know that she was the center of his world, and that he lived to please her. All of this, in just one simple kiss. It was the kiss of joining, two made one.

He was getting closer, he could hear her gentle laughter float softly to him. It seemed to fit the quiet of the night. Neither of them had made a sound walking down the path, so the night animals were still out - doing their animal thing. He could see rabbits nibbling the green shoots of some grass. The rabbits paid him no mind, he wasn't a threat.

She moved so gracefully, like a ballerina giving a private performance. It entranced him, as it always had. He loved how her body seemed to flow from head to toe, mesmerizing him into complacency. That was how she had first talked to him. He had been struck dumb watching her dance, and she had come up to him and started to talk to him. He was so shocked, no one had ever noticed him before. But here she was, showing him that someone cared, that he was needed. A strange feeling, and it had changed his life.

As he came closer, she turned and ran lithely out into a grassy meadow. The grass wasn't very tall, only coming mid-calf, but it was enough to make her seem to be floating on a moonlit grassy ocean. He just stood there and watched her swirl around in patterns that only she could discern. He knew that in time, he was expected to join her in the field. He had a date that he had to keep. But for now, for now he just watched and smiled.

She had stolen his heart. Then she left. Their lives were never meant to be together. Destiny had other plans for them. In time, they had a chance to be together, but so many other things had to be accomplished first. A list daunting, but he never backed down from what he wanted.

So with purpose, he worked feverishly to accomplish those ends. Doing everything in his power to facilitate their re-uniting. He worked so hard, he worked himself to death.

He watched her dance, she was beckoning to him to come to her. This was his only time with her. On the night of the full moon, for just a few hours, he could hold her in his arms, he could look his love in the eyes, and say everything he wanted to say. He knew that when the time came, like the moon, she would disappear, only to return in 28 days. He lived his life for those days.

28 days. He pulled off his shirt. If he was going to dance in the moon, it was only right to do it in the skin he was born with. Looking at the growing smile on her face, he stepped out into the cold, dew-laden grass. He headed to his love. Tonight, they would be one.

He loved her so.

Soft Whispers

"Shhhhh," he said softly. Wringing the water from the cloth, he gently bathed her forehead. The fever was burning her up, and this was all he had to help cool her down. The summer heat was the worst time to be sick. The body was already working overtime from sweating, and then you add increased temperatures, and it was real easy to burn up.


He was really worried, she was thrashing in her sleep so hard. He had had to restrain her a few hours before so that she wouldn't injure herself she was thrashing so bad. He knew that this was not a normal summer cold, but he didn't know what else to do, but give her water and try to keep her cool. 


The nearest doctor was two days ride to the east, they had gone way out of the way when they had settled. She wanted a house away from the hustle and bustle, she wanted to live away from everyone. He smiled at the memory of her running naked through the garden on the night of the full moon. She loved the moon so much. He looked down at her resting face. The skin was flushed with heat, but didn't show signs of harm from the fever. She wasn't wasting away. 


He had searched for hours for some sign of infection, some cut that hadn't healed well. He had searched every inch of her body, as he had many times before when making passionate love to her. But this time, he knew it was life and death, and not pleasure. He had found nothing. 

He knew that if her fever didn't break soon, he would have to get help. But that either leaving her, or moving her, and neither seemed a feasible alternative. It was a long walk back to town, and they didn't have but the one horse. He knew that he would have to fashion some sort of carriage so that they could travel more rapidly. He would start work on it in the cool of night, foregoing sleep. He had to save her.


He looked at the face of this woman that he loved so much. He knew would go to the ends of the Earth to save her. Nothing else mattered to him. She was his everything.

Sailor

The old man looked up from the glass in front of him, and gazed at the lights of Nice. He never expected to have made it here in his lifetime. He raised his glass in toast, and took a swallow. One didn't gulp fine rye whisky, one sipped it like the respectful gentleman one was.

Nice. Strange to think he was here. Even stranger to be here on this yacht. Life had been good to him, he smiled as he thought about how good it had been. Right decisions at the right times, moving up the ranks, and soon he had the life of luxury he had always wanted.

He raised his eyes to the city spread out before him. He had anchored out, away from the city, but still close enough to drink in the sights. He had never been to this part of the world before. But he was on his "world" tour. He had started in Miami, and sailed up the coastline, then crossed over and down the European coast to finally end up at Nice. It had been a long and arduous journey, but he figured that it would probably be his last. He was tired, and ready to relax at home until it was time to find out what the next world brought.

As he was thinking about his life, he found that he had just one regret. It had haunted his life, bringing chronic depression and fits of madness. He regretted never telling the love of his life how he felt. He had let her walk away. And it tormented him. All of his success, all of his achievements had been in the hopes that she would have taken notice and tried to contact him. He desperately wanted that to happen, but year after year had passed, and no calls. He had achieved fame and wealth. His philoanthropy had been lauded nationwide, he had set precendents for charitable giving. And still he never heard from her.

He thought back to that day. The day when he realized that his lifestyle, his workload, his drive to be successful, his habits, his entire world would do nothing but prevent him from being the man that she so desperately needed in her life. No matter how much he loved her, he couldn't condemn her to such an unhappy life. And so he had left, never speaking again. And always missed her. Always longed for her, her touch, her voice as it whispered his name. He dreamed of holding her tight, and would wake wondering where she had gone.

He took another swallow. Yes, life had been good to him. And it hated him with a passion. He chuckled. "You can never win." he muttered aloud. The gentle breeze took his words away. He settled back into his chair and looked at the lights. Tomorrow, he would go into town.

He reached down and pulled out his journal. He would send her a letter. He had sent letter after letter after letter, to the same address, telling her of how his life was going. The first letter had been sent almost a year after he left. Just a quick note to say he was ok, and that he had to leave and start a new life, and one day she would understand. The letter never came back. A year or two later, as he got successful, he sent another letter. To the same PO box. It never came back.

As he got older, the letters starting going out more frequently, always with the same address, never coming back. He wasn't sure if she was even the one reading the letters, but he really hoped so. The more he traveled, the more letters he sent. And none ever came back.

Nice, he gazed out at the lights, trying to put words to the sight before him. He wondered where she was, if she missed him. He hoped her life had turned out nice. He had never checked, even though he had had many opportunities. The letters were answer enough for him.

Whispers

Clack, clack, clack.
The wind chimes sing their song.
Clack, clack, clack.
The wind gently ruffles his hair.
Clack, clack, clack.
The sun shines down warm upon him.
Clack, clack, clack.
He lays back his head and relaxes.
Clack, clack, clack.
"Let go." whispers the voice.
Clack, clack, clack.
And so he did.

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Discordant echoes

Her words echo through his skull,
Telling him how to live his life.
Telling him what he did was wrong.

Funny that she was the one
Who did the wrong.
Echoes of a world slowly
Being forgotten.

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