sunflowers at night

this beautiful evening.
i want you in my veins.
there is a moment when i glanced outside and i saw long slender stalks swaying slowly in this strangely cool august breeze.

and i forgot everything else.
i was outside, i was sitting on the cold concrete, looking up at the green and yellow and intoxicated bumblebees.  the images transfixed me.

you saw me in the dark and while i may be comfortable like a hoody sweatshirt, you know i will keep your mind sweetly distracted.  i turn my back to you so you can press your lips between my shoulder blades.while i open my notebook and put pen to paper. 

divorce.  he left the day after christmas, 1978.
death.  i read about it in the obits when i was 6 at my grandmother’s home on borthwick.
dance.  they awarded me best performer and best smile and i knew that my life altering injuries would pale in comparison to that moment.
protest.  we walked arm in arm singing alphaville forever young and i broke away from the moment in a blur of fury as they burned our flag in a messed up effigy of the freedom that allowed me to speak out against the government.  i cried for the boy who had left for the middle east.
death.  standing on a dock along the willamette with my first love, not knowing how to take care of everyone else.
molestation.  asleep while he abused me in the house on long street.  he told her about it.  i learned about it twenty years later.  they all knew.  no one protected me.
independence.  catching a bus down to southern oregon and getting off on the side of the road, meeting strangers to camp out with, seventeen and pure and free, stripping down to dip in the creek and laugh with the boys.
battle.  driving up a mountain in the blinding snow, all of my possessions in the back, leaving stumptown, sleeping in my car.
spirituality.  looking at the rockies ahead of me, leaving las vegas in my ears as i left colorado to discover the emerald city.  i was freeing myself.
dance. ministry, cure, love and rockets, depeche, new order, black clothes, pointy boots, grape nehis, vogue.  being stopped around midnight to hear about the death of princess diana.
marriage.  going against what i knew was leading me down the wrong path, in a white sundress and surrounded by friends. he didn’t feel like taking time off work to walk me down the aisle and she didn’t like that she wasn’t first to know, so the only two traditions i wanted were stained.  but i loved him, i really did.  i was only twenty-six and i thought, finally i don’t have to worry anymore.
withdrawals.  realizing he might never touch you the way you needed him to, as his body shook and sweat and you suddenly realized this might not be quite what you envisioned as a girl.  but you fought for him like a tiger.  until you realized he’d been lying.  until you realized that somewhere along the way, he ran after his demons and left you in the drivers seat.
divorce.  you handed him the papers. he was cynical. ten minutes later your coworker dropped dead and you were left to leave the house and go clean out pictures of his seven year old from his desk and put your own drama on a back burner.  they needed you now, this family.  this child with a drunk mother was left with no father.
sanctuary.  she drove to your office holding a giant bow with a small key dangling.  you were in oregon, you found a home for daisy and yourself,, far away from him, far away from all of them, ready to start your own life.  the floors were oak and the doors were french and there was much to do but you saw sanctuary, and you dropped to your knees and breathed it all in as best you could.
closure.  he tried to push you away and pull you in for seventeen years.  one day you woke up and realized there was so much more.  there was someone new who you didn’t have to worry about drinking himself into a stupor and running into trees with his van, who you knew wasn’t going to lie to you, who thought your cooking was a thing of beauty and who didn’t remind you of how thin you were at sixteen because he loved your looking like a real woman and used his mind.
death.  his lungs began to gurgle and you were on your feet and at his side within milliseconds.  you held his hand and kissed his forehead and told him to think about love.  he looked at you one last time and looked over at her.  i said to you, daddy, daddy, daddy don’t leave me.  i was your little girl for one small second and you were gone.  i fell back into the wall as your spirit left the room at 1:29 am november tenth.  
great expectations.  he was never really yours.  your friend explained to you that with death you were freed to let go of people who were like him.  she held me as my sobs shook the room.  he was nowhere to be found because he was fucking some girl with the same name.  you left for two weeks on the mexican coastline to put together the pieces, try to find a way to see life in a new way. learn  a deeper lesson about myself.
perspective.  you lost your job.  you knew that nothing was important beyond saving your sanctuary. you put up with absurdity that only could be described as sitcom when you look back.  you braved the elements and poured pages into your journal and this new typewritten blog and you started seeing new reflections of yourself staring back at you.
strength.  you had nothing more to lose.  you put your art out there.  you unleashed your heart and your art and said come world, what do you think you can do to hurt me, cuz i’m betting i’ve already seen it.  i’m betting that if i walk now, i have friends who will link arms with me and help me slay dragons.
peace.  a simmering of my heart and mind and i know that there are no more walls to tear down today.  i know that i will gladly go wherever life takes me, that there are no more rules to love, that i am okay, just as i am, as the movie said.  that there is love all around me, and i am experiencing today the most beautiful tangible moment as i get ready to slip into the covers, the feeling of being soft and open and yet feisty and adventurous.
beginning.  this memory will be documented soon enough.

One thought on “lunes

  1. First of all, I like the new layout!

    As for this post, as I've said before, you have an amazing way of capturing life in words… and I'm amazed at some of the parallels of our lives. You really inspire me to be more open in my writing, too. Thank You.


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