Saturday, February 28, 2015

Humble

I think we all need something.

No matter how happy we are or how satisfied we become, there will always be that little pilot light in the corner of our hearts, flickering with memory and nostalgia, that we just can't seem to ever extinguish.

Many people have come back into my life the last three years in an effort to rekindle that flame, see how warm the glow still feels after all of this time. Maybe it's a friendship, maybe it's an old romance, sometimes it's an old co-worker, trying to make amends over an expensive mistake. But in any case, the point remains the same: No matter how long it's been, no matter how much we've grown or changed, moved on, or how many of our own questions we've answered, that spark of human curiosity always wins out. It's a persistent little agent of our subconscious that simply is just too naive of rational thought to die out.

Sometimes this is good. It allows bridges to be repaired, and old problems with aching joints that are weary from the weight of guilt and doubt to finally be free of the burden we inflict upon our own selves. Many times it opens up new doors, new avenues and connections in our lives that we had gone without for so long, and the light of life floods in, and the lessons we had been learning all these years finally come to fruition and reward us with our bravery of something new by having the courage to accepting something old.

And sometimes that curiosity is bad. It becomes an anchor to our hearts that only allows it to move forward with painful tugs, dragging along mud and rock from the ocean floor of our psyche. With every push forward, there is a nearly equal pull back, reminding us that we failed before. That we still have something to learn, some wisdom we still have to extract. Worse, it can simply settle into the ground, leaving us immobile, and at the mercy of any waves or hurricanes with no way to adapt or escape.

The inevitability of this flame is what keeps me humble. I don't reject it's existence when I feel it's fire, nor do I fully embrace it. I accept it. Walk over to it. And sit next to it. And then I watch it with a tilted head, and wonder why it moves the way it does - why it chooses to dance at certain times of the night. I refuse to be burned by it again. But I will let it close enough to keep me out of the dark.

Some people come back into my life only to feel warm again when they feel cold in their lives. And while I will always offer my companionship to anyone in need, I refuse to be used as a tool. I draw the line at being a safe haven when it's convenient only to be rejected as a human being the next moment for that same reason - convenience.

Others have come back into my life and I couldn't be more grateful at the luck, blind fate, God, or whoever or whatever had their hands on the puppet strings of time. I truly do not know where I would be today without a very select few individuals. Still others I admittedly wish (and hope) come back to visit me when they are ready to keep writing our story, to answer questions they long feared to ask or even answer.

Their time may come. Or it may never. I remain humble in that regard as well. Not every story has a happy ending. Hell, not every story even has an ending. Some stories cut off in the middle of the book and the best you can do is hope their last chapters went well without you. But until I die, I will always wait by my flickering fire, ready to talk with whoever decides to sit next to me again.

I may sit alone sometimes. But never in the dark.

I always have my Curious Flame.


Thursday, February 12, 2015

Girls In Boxes.


So now that I am finally slowly starting to put together
All the pieces of our puzzle I've been collecting forever,
The edges worn, I find no corners,
I just want to flip this whole god damn thing over.

And all those nights of black and white disguised as red flag warnings,
And all those fights we pushed aside and just had sex till morning,
We were naive to believe
We could refuse that fire so rewarding.

I'm not going to ask, I'm not going to beg, 
I'm just going to put your in your place,
Where you can lie all you want to the darkness
On the shelf with the other girls in boxes. 

We let our egos and intentions bleed into each other.
Lost our luster deep inside the shine of lust and chroma.
I get it now - we were too proud
To admit to ourselves when it was over.

I'm not going to ask, I'm not going to beg, 
I'm just going to put your in your place,
Where you can lie all you want to the darkness
On the shelf with the other girls in boxes. 

It was me and you,
Red and blue,
And this purple stain wasn't preordained.

I can't stand this view any longer.

So now that I have finally finished putting all together
All those pieces of our future I thought would last forever,
I can't ignore, I still want more,
I just want to start this whole god damn thing over.

I'm not going to ask, I'm not going to beg, 
I'm just going to put your in your place,
Where you can lie all you want to the darkness
On the shelf with the other girls in boxes. 

You're just another girl
Now,
You're just another girl.

You're  just another god damn girl in a box.