I haven’t been at work for close to three weeks. (19 days exactly)
Oh, I was not sick or anything, I was on vacation for 13 of those 19 days.
It is a long, long time. I know that some things changed, like my schedule, and truth be told, I am nervous about going back. I was out of the loop for so long; they managed well without me, and I am not sure if that fact is encouraging or frightening.
And that evil voice in my head keeps telling me that they are better off without me anyway.
We’ll see what tomorrow brings.
I tasted the rainbow on your aroused skin
I remember nooks, crannies and every part within
A life lived so many moans ago
However, the scars can only fade but never go
Years later, I still wake up
Heart pounding, erratic breathing, when does it stop ?
Memories of you are hiding behind my eyes
But I cannot distinguish between truth and lies
We lost too many pieces of our souls
Soaked from gaping wounds and dripping from their holes.
If the rain knew how to resurrect the last bits of me
The sun would kiss your cheeks and set you free.
Floating on a wave of serenity,
tasting – feeling the salty sea on my skin,
drowning in the experience of unexpected tranquility.
No more dreams
Ears filled with tears
Whoever you were then,
Only a stranger now
A mask in the mirror
A storm in a glass
Hiding behind empty eyes.
I live in your light
I die in your shadow
Your taste still lingers on my lips
Your scent is in every breath I take
We are waiting in the night
As long as it takes for us to become alive.
Heart of Stone… I am procrastinating to keep editing this story. It is available for free on Wattpad. The response has been quite nice. Here are a couple of comments from the last chapter:
So far, I added one chapter and edited more or less 80% of the existing story, adding paragraphs and taking other unimportant stuff out. I believe that I have something good on my hands. And although I am sparse with praise for myself, I think that this novel is worth every reader’s time (even in its unedited state).
Here is a link: https://my.w.tt/mahOoc4VpZ
If you are inclined to read, please do. I am grateful for every comment and encouragement I can get. Sometimes, comments help in the editing process; asking questions and clarifications make me see where the story is not clear or where more words are necessary. There are parts that seem logical to me, but that’s because my mind fills the gaps that exist. I know the characters and their flaws because they are in my head and in my imagination – it is not the same for a reader who has a healthier distance to these characters.
As always, thank you for your support.
Have a nice weekend.
I delete posts and tweets and pictures. And I am not sorry.
I don’t regret, but sometimes I feel stupid after posting things and I delete them. Because I feel better afterward. (Though I also felt good when I posted in the first place…)
It is complicated because emotions are complicated.
Have a great week.
Tossing and turning
The past and the future
No lessons I am learning.
Hands on my skin
I cannot push them away
Taken against my will
“Stop,” I whisper and pray.
But you didn’t stop
And you never will
I move on
I am standing still.
Twenty years later
You are still in me
You made me who I am
I will never be free.
Forced inside my body
Tattooed where you have been
I was fifteen when you had
your hands on my skin.
Vulnerable and emotional
Most days I grace you with silence
I don’t want to remember
You and your violence.
But today a friend told his story
And I feel brave this very instant too
It is not easy to speak;
To validate you.
I never forgot you and your smell,
I never will
Haunted in my dreams
Feeling the old chill.
You will never leave my soul
And no matter how far I run
You are already there
Declaring “this was fun.”
I was a victim of your lust
Not strong enough to kick you off
But a lot of time has passed
Is my forgiveness me being soft?
I don’t think it is
But I deserve more than the past
I own my present and the future too;
A future that will last.
When I want to give up
Your voice is part of the reason
It is hard not to give in
It is a battle to live to see another season.
Tossing and turning
These are old memories
Yet they are still burning.
Too many men and women survived the same ordeal
Superheroes in their own right
Broken but strong enough to see
Life is not made of darkness; it is made of light.