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Mar. 1, 2005 I can rearrange my words, but I can’t my thoughts. They stay the same, kicking and screaming, and flailing around in there. Later in my bed, I’ll stare at the ceiling. I’ll pretend I have a swamp cooler on when it’s really just the heater. I’ll warm up quick and I know it, but I will still pretend. I’ll make believe that you are mine, like a kid with a page in a coloring book, like a social security number and a good ID. My mind is ocean, I’m floating on my back… which is nice. It is wonderful, so I try to keep my eyes closed. Do I hear something? Water starts to leak into my ears. I’m feeling fear because it’s a big place and I could get swallowed, sharp as sharks teeth are it would hurt. I might lose my breath, and my mind, I might drown in the salted bath water. Why can’t I think it out, work it out, give it up? I don’t know. Why do I fear the talk it out? Or you and the walk it out, and me.. still here with my mind in the sweet-calm water. I’m fighting this like we did last night. Like we do every night, because were not sure if that’s the wave coming in. Squinting, we yell, “hurry up!” into the distant air, my life is in spin, bottles, merry-go-rounds, and another word that you might not understand. Now I wish I was sitting on the beach, instead of choking on my lack of confidence, with my lack of verbs and nouns, in this sea that’s called my thoughts. I wish I was sitting next to you, we could watch the tide, skip rocks, pick up shells. You could cover me with sand and take a picture, if you promise not to get any in my eyes. Visa versa… I think you would say, not in those words ...but, in some great way. We could stop everything, the car, our monotonous tasks, Time. And then, at every little coffee shop on the way. Love is what we’ll say it is, even though we don’t know. There we will be. Carefree. You and I. Destined for a land.. The Great Valley. Because were not settling down for alone, or at all. I want to stop fighting this. I want to say that I could be with you forever. But, I’m scared, and I’m worried, and I wonder if you’ll feel the same... ,br> For a very long time. ------------ About the author: Mechele Cassells is 22. One day she will own her own radio station, write a couple books and get married. In the meantime she'll just play guitar, drink coffee, and eat dictionaries. That's the life! http://profiles.myspace.com/users/16940497 Email: mecheolight@aol.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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