Museful Mind

Did I mean anything?

Did you warm at my kiss?

Did you tremble at my touch?

Did you forget me?

Do you want to?

Every touch, 

Even with no meaning,

Makes me freeze and revel while it lasts.

Your hands on my face, 

Your lips to mine.

Our eyes locked in a gaze.

Is it really gone in the haze?

Life is meant to be hard. 

If it was easy we would never grow personally, and never have to fight for anything we wanted or believed in. 

People tend to suck sometimes. 

If people didn’t suck from time to time we would not get to know the people we meet in life, and therefore we would miss out on stories to either remember or re-tell and lack a few friends we made along the way.

Title: Words

Thank you.

Thank you for your kiss.

Thank you for your smile.

Thank you for your hands to my hips,

And for staying a while.

Thank you for saying the things nobody else would,

And thank you for making me believe that you meant every word.

I understand fully choices made,

Maybe its possible some were mistake.

The past is the past,

My past will ne’er resurface.

I look to the future,

Hate the fact I want you lying with me.

I know the way the cards are dealt,

I certainly know how your heart has felt.

When one door closes,

Another opens.

But eyes must be wide to see the calm,

After storm.

I wish to give thanks,

Give all you deserve.

All you have to do dear,

is say the words.

I have kept mine.

Facebook is something I think people rely on way too much. I myself admit to this. So I’m going to try to not use it all that much this weekend. I feel like 90% of the time I post things that aren’t even cared about or noticed.. its much like a blog for the public. Except the public on Facebook knows me on a somewhat personal basis, since most of the people on my friends list I am actually acquainted with somehow.

So I will never delete my Facebook.

Doesn’t mean I like the addictive habit it instills in people to rely on it for social purposes.

“Side Note: I wrote this story for the sake of writing it, its not an actual dream I had, before anyone wonders. However, while I never intended to read it in my writing class, I will be at some point in the future. So, if you are part of that class, you may or may not want to read this yet. Its your call. Either way, I hope you enjoy the story—”

Story of my life lately.

“Marla’s Lament”
By Laura M. Simonelli

As I watched him, I cried. Silent tears stained my face and as I walked, my weak knees wobbled every step, threatening to give at any moment. But nobody would be around to help me up, since I was virtually nonexistent.

Though I walked and felt and cried, I had no body. I was dreaming. From my perspective of things, it was like I was just a presence floating in space, observing my surroundings. Beside me, Andrew was walking, keeping a slow, contemplative pace. His soft footsteps quiet against the pavement where it faded out to a dirt road.

It was dark, the stars the only light as we walked out of town, and away from street lights. The only sound was the breeze rustling the leaves of the trees. Still, as I watched Andrew, I could see him clearly, and as always, my breath caught.

Andrew wore a black blazer, and a maroon scarf around his neck. His dark bangs falling in front of his eyes, his jaw set and his eyes were glazed over. As if he wasn’t here, but elsewhere.. He was tall, much taller than I, and despite being only sixteen, he looked like he could have been at least eighteen in that moment.

Andrew thrust his hands in his coat pockets and sighed heavily.
How I wish I could hold his hand…

I knew about Andrew’s demons. I knew about his mother’s death, how he had no father, and how his Uncle pushed him around and reminded him daily of everything abnormal and wrong about Andrew. As if it were his fault. I knew the moment when he smiled that he looked like a child, just for a moment. Innocent, happy. The rest of the time it was like being around a middle aged mind in a kid’s body.

I knew the pain in his eyes when he saw Angela, the girl he liked, and he knew he could never touch her without regret. I understood what every frown and every sigh and every twisted, pained expression when it was just us meant. I knew the difference between his honest smiles and laughter, and when he acted.. I completely understood his lament, and it broke my heart.

And I related. Not because I was the same and had the same big issue he did, but I knew what pain was. I also knew what it was like to want something that, no matter what, you could never have.

Like I wanted him.

The farther we walked, the less off the town I could see. We strolled along the side of the road, visible were rolling fields illuminated by the full moon, and woods far off in the distance. It was magical.

In the silence, I could hear Andrew’s breathing, and could smell the sweet, intoxicating scent of the dying leaves scattered around. A breeze picked up and the leaves stirred. Winter would be here soon.

Andrew slowed and turned into the grass of a field beside us. I watched his back as he walked for a moment, before I hurried to his side. We walked until we couldn’t see the road anymore, and Andrew stopped. I stayed a few feet behind him and watched for a moment.

Andrew stood in the middle of the field, staring at the moon and the stars as he stood in an ocean of grass. Then he screamed. From the top of his lungs, he screamed, and hunched over toward the ground. I sobbed, and that was why. I cried because I knew exactly how he felt, and it hurt that there was nothing I could do for him.

Watching Andrew, he looked as untouchable as ever, standing in the middle of the field, illuminated by the moon. He looked so out of reach, like an angel that had fallen to earth.

Andrew…

Andrew screamed until he couldn’t any more, and his voice shriveled to nothing. As I watched, his arms fell limp at his sides and his head fell back as far as his neck would allow. He dropped to his knees.

Andrew!

I ran to him, the grass brushing my legs as my every nerve was suddenly quite aware. When I reached him, I wrapped my arms around him and fell to my knees, my tears soaking his hair, his coat. I breathed him in, and was lost in the feel of him in my arms, and the scent of dead leaves took over my senses, and I smelled his warm skin, and I smelled cinnamon, I smelled forest, and earth. He was the definition of my autumn. He was everything autumn was to me. He had been ever since that fall a year before, when I moved to Maple Valley.

My breath caught as he steadied his hands on my waist, as if contemplating whether he should push me away. For a moment, I thought for sure that he would, and began to loosen my arms from his neck. Then the wind blew, and I smelled autumn, and Andrew wrapped his arms around me and buried his head in my chest, shaking.

We fell to the ground together and I pulled away just enough to see his beautiful dark eyes.
“It’s going to be okay, Andrew.”

“How would you know?” His eyes were pained, his gaze darting, searching for an answer in my eyes. A breeze blew his bangs into his eyes, I tenderly brushed them back.

“Because you have me. I’m your friend. And I’m here, now. And you don’t hurt me. You wouldn’t hurt me.” I rested my hands on the sides of his face, caressing his skin with my thumbs. He was cold.

“I can’t control things. It’s not a matter of control. It just happens. I let myself be happy, feel… love. I let myself live, and I hurt people, I could kill someone… Like I killed my mother.” His breath was hot on my cold skin.

“Stop it,” I whispered, Andrew looked away.

“Now, you listen to me. I mean it. I don’t care. You’re my friend. I care too much to let you do this to yourself…”

Andrew didn’t say anything, his gaze searching my eyes, my face, then resting on my lips. My heart raced, and the wind blew and his lips were on mine, and he held me, and I smelled dead leaves and I pressed back. I was dizzy and he pulled back and towered over me and his lips crashed down again, too soon for me to take a breath.

Before I knew what hit me, I was being lowered to the ground, the smell of dead leaves and grass and earth and cinnamon even stronger as he kissed me again and again. I was drowning in him. He pressed his body to me, and pulled me closer. My hands roamed under his jacket, over his torso, his chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he trailed kisses along my jaw, down my neck, traveling further under my shirt. I had no breath as his hand and mouth traveled over my skin and I whimpered, his other hand wrapped in my hair. I was still absentmindedly trying to figure out at what point he undid my coat, when his hand was under my bra, and I pressed myself to him, and he weighed down on me. He was like a drug. His mouth was on my neck again, and I watched the grass move as another breeze passed by, and I looked at the moon.

It was beautiful, this night as we laid together. I stopped it, not wanting to take chances by going farther than we probably should.

I was too happy to be surprised, and I looked at Andrew, and rolled to face him, kissing his forehead gently, “It will be okay. No matter what. I promise…”

“Somehow… I believe you.” And his soft lips found mine and I was dizzy, and I drown in the scent of autumn and cinnamon, and the feeling of knowing my importance to him without hearing him say it, the dream ending, but never forgotten.

The selfishness of others never ceases to amaze me…