words caffeinated

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star 20/20

tumbling star
talk to me
answer the questions
that I’ve asked
shooting star
call to me
take me into
your loving grasp
falling star
cry with me
help me take
the pain away
sparking star
sing to me
tell me everything
will be okay

I wrote this 20 years ago when I was 20 years old.

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There’s something about the moments in life when you’re sharing something important to you, maybe something difficult to speak about, that you might even try to nonchalantly mention in a half hearted or offhanded way. Like when you want to show someone your writing or your art or or music or just something very personal and important to the very core of you and you almost stop breathing for a moment, even though you tell yourself that what they think is unimportant and that what you do and think is for you, your soul, blah blah blah… but in that baited breath and sometimes they’ll look you right in the eye, and sometimes there will be a wonder there, or it will excite them and you’ll inspire each other, or sometimes it’s nothing more than an understanding and an almost kinship that they totally get. And it’s beautiful and magical and that moment wraps you up in that warmth of connection.

And then there are moments when instead you’re met with silence or an offhanded remark, maybe even eyes that are intent on something else completely, and it takes the breath out of you and you feel unseen, invisible, a half dead leaf blowing along the sidewalk, lost to the wind.

How is it that I allowed myself to be lost to the wind for over two years?

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to steal away

thoughts whispers touch. and scent, even still. a glass of wine to remind me a little, as we were. sitting quietly conversation shy glances. and smiles. it feels almost forever, but not. and the gorgeous sky reminds me, so blue and crisp. it’s as if we owned the stars even, as if we owned the trees and the wind and the rustling whirling close. dreams and truths. as if they existed for us alone, tempting wishing for us to steal away.

to steal away, yes. for a little while.

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Breaking Off Bits of Other People’s Lives

A man scribbles on a notepad on the other side of the courtyard, his long, uncombed hair held back loosely in a colorless ribbon. He’s probably waiting for the train, distractedly looking up from his task now and then to peer down the tracks. It doesn’t appear to be words on his notepad– drawings of some kind. He abruptly puts the notepad down and takes a drink of water from a small bottle, never noticing the people around him.

Our tour guide yesterday was interestingly strange. He enjoyed using the words and phrases, “Indeed,” “partake,” and “If I may.” He wore sandals where his large, wrinkled toes jutted out from them, trudging along as he showed us around the campus grounds. Shiny white teeth glared out of his dark face when he smiled. A sincere, embracing smile as he enjoyed himself walking us around.

My music is too loud, as usual, driving to buy another pack of cigarettes. A boy walks on the sidewalk– not walks, but instead dances– his earphones on and his arms being thrown out in erratic disarray. Uncaring of the others walking the same sidewalk or the cars passing, his mouth moving with the lyrics of a song, dancing… dancing.

A young girl on the subway mouths the words to a book as she reads, ignoring the cramped bundles of bodies surrounding her. I can see she has braces, glinting now and then as she stumbles over a word. Her ears face outwards, giving her a waifish, almost elven look. The subway stops quickly, causing our suitcases to fall over, and she looks up and watches us a while. Breaking off bits of each other’s lives.