vision of jaded light

Whenever I come home from a long time away, I have to drive around for awhile (preferably at night) to reflect and remember and take time to simply exist again in a world that has meaningful dimension and valid appreciation for my crazy life. and how appropriate that tonight, night of my drive, the northern lights created a supernatural glow that enveloped my thoughts and gave them magic.

I was able to remember, remember all that was good about my stay in Paris and all that really really wasn't. Able to tangibly recall every moment of confusion, of joy, of loneliness, of fear. but most importantly, I was able to look into the eyes of the people I love and see unconditional regard staring me straight in the face, eyes that say "you are home and you are wonderful," and for what feels like the first time, believe them.

It is so good to be home.

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sometimes there is, deep within us, immeasurable hurt. sometimes, we need to go back and revisit those places to remember who we are, and sometimes we don't have a choice. forced back in time, we are stripped of all security and left naked to rebuild from the pieces we've lost.

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unbidden, they are here

clawing at my heart in its most fearful places

places long roped off as dangerous

for good reasons.

places I now try to stare in the face

but find I am still

afraid.

too much to live for

too many ways to die

fight the hurt.

so we walk around like twisted bandaids, thinking ourselves masters of healing, forgetting our fragility and capacity to cause more pain.

toothache desires

destroyed with a healthy dose of daylight

(awaiting a cure?)

but in the meantime, these are the memories I am left with

and this mystery

is mine.

wild

strong steps forward

each direct, intentional

slightly diagonal

our eyes are blades of burning fury

we are

we will be

we must

startling as a white murmur

a sensual plea for help

she is like a cat in the dark

and then she is the darkness

despite my mental state

and torn up feelings

I can still look up

-at you-

and smile

and wholeheartedly mean

both

put us all in one room, our smoking, pleated, hazardous selves--just to see what kind of ruckus we make.

my dreams encircle me,

laughing a litte at my earnest face.

a million miles away

I can finally sleep.

less seasons and more dancing

the intricate workings of time and space on those fragile ideas we call

ourselves.

my pants are red

my shirt is on fire

and my hair eclipses the night

guilt

vin au matin

leaving us drunk on madness

hungover from our wasted desire

and now there is nothing--

nothing but too much emptiness that runs too deep

thrashing the remnants

we hide in our pockets

you look at me and laugh

but I feel it much much deeper

remind me again

color me joyful

because it seems I've forgotten

from one who finds value in little else--words. I can do everything and nothing.

swaying as part of our own outside

fed by the very shadows we run from

such a beautiful place to die.