Tempest Part I

I want to be hit
by lightning
and feel the flash of pain
as a burning realization of thunder
sets in upon my skin.

The Birds of Paradise Part II

All children grow up. That’s a fact of life.
You grew up too fast, I think, maybe because my life spun wildly out of control every now and then, causing me to neglect you and our friendship.
I can still remember when I fell in love with you.
You’d just turned nineteen.
Everybody else had just left for home, and you were sleeping on the porch, the wind blowing through your hair, a tangled mass of black that swirled around you, creating abstract patterns against the wood.
You were sleeping, and I did something stupid.
I used to play games in my head when I was a kid, where I would create a new world in which things were the way I wanted them to be.
I wanted you to be mine. And with that desire in mind, for I couldn’t get rid of it, I slowly let myself bend forward until our heads were touching.
You were perfect like the image of a painting, features symmetrically aligned in an attempt to ensnare and seduce.
I did something stupid.
I don’t remember making the decision, or moving to act. All I know is that I kissed you, and that was a stupid idea.
You were soft and sweet, just like a china doll with the red lips, white skin, and black hair all tangled up with mine, creating an earthy mix. You didn’t stir or make any sign that you’d woken up. I felt like my heart was going to burst into a thousand pieces any second.
Any second now, and I was going to be punished for my sins.
“Vivienne.”
I looked up with a start and saw Theo watching me from the doorway.
“Has everyone left?” I asked.
“Yes.” He smiled softly, like he always did.
“Do you hate me, Theo?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking, even though I wanted to bite my tongue off and swallow it. Maybe then I could keep my mouth from acting on its own.
Theo was always smiling. He was always laughing, just like he was now. Almost like we weren’t married and he hadn’t just seen me kiss my best friend.
“Why would I hate you, Vivienne?’ he asked. “You’ve got a more logical reason to hate me.”
“Why would I hate you, Theo?” I asked.
He was already gone, though, leaving me there stunned, you still asleep beside me. Although thinking back, you could have been awake, seeing as I lost track of how long I sat there in shock.
“Hey Viv.”
I looked back and you were getting up. Your hair shielded your face so I couldn’t read your expression. “I’m gonna go, so I’ll see you later.”
“Alright.” And with that, you were gone as well, the screen door creaking shut behind you.
I don’t know how long I remained on the deck, wind pulling my hair free and your voice dancing in my ears, but eventually Yoselin dragged me inside to play dolls with her and Helena.
I needed to talk to Theo. I needed to bury myself in a pot and slam the lid on so nothing could escape. I needed to wake up and realize that I was in love with you.
I was in love with you.
I was in love with two people, and even now, I had no idea that they would both leave me so soon.

The Birds of Paradise Part I

I want to see you
laughing,
just like your ghost
as she whispers in my ear
of a memory I silenced
and my enjoyment of
staining the two of us
red, with a ticket
down to hell.

You're a Movie Part II

I loved to play with camcorders.
It was the act of creating something permanent, something that could outlast me and the wishy-washy attitude I carried around with me like a fashionable handbag.
I’d set them up in random areas around the house. Then I waited to see how long it would take for people to find them, and what shots I could get before I had to take them down. My brothers would complain loudly to our parents when they discovered that I’d ‘accidentally’ taped parts of their experimentations with girls.
Film was my form of adolescent rebellion.
I kept it toned down, though, because as girl, I wasn’t supposed to have a large presence.
The camcorder is the perfect woman. She’s soft and compact and never speaks. She’s silent, as she listens to the world around her and takes note of everything that happens.
The dutiful, perfect wife.
And film was my lover until I got married at nineteen.
Now I sit back and watch the memories as they play over and over again on the small television screen in the dark.
I did something stupid and Theo forgave me, though Krista wasn’t as gentle. I watch my mistakes over and over with a dulled passion for justice.
It was stupid to try and attempt to keep those feelings of mine hidden, but I did and I tried to become a camcorder. The perfect woman for Theo when we got married.
Theo was a crystal statue’s lover as he touched me tenderly as to not cause me to shatter. He was too gentle as his presence slowly ingrained into and over my flesh. I loved the fact that eventually the only thing trapped in his vision was my reflection.
I was in love with Theo, there’s no question about that. I loved being near him, and the way we were together. Sometimes I pull out his tapes from their space under the stairs and watch them, trying to imagine that he’s still alive and with me, as opposed to lying in the graveyard up the hill. That’s the only way I can physically meet him now. When I go up the hill once a day and spread flowers across his tombstone.
I was in love with Theo, and he was in love with me, yet it was never enough.
It was never enough, but I could always hide that desire underneath the skin of a bubbling mountain, ready to explode. Krista and Theo left before my alarm could go off, though.
The one clip I watch over and over is the moment I let myself fall into hell. When I leaned over and stole a kiss from Krista while Theo was watching.

You're a Movie Part I

You’re a movie
as the camera rolls
and quakes beneath the fear
of failing.

Wounded

I suck back the blood
and try to heal the wounds,
try to paste over the scars that
burn red, struggle pink and shudder
in the hot element of sinister design.
I long to touch the fog, taste
the sugar of the glass and peel the sticky shell
of the music off my pale skin, in hopes
of a small, round little glitter, glimmer and shine
of a greeting among familiar faces
I still wish
for a smile perched upon the wing of
lost movement in motion, blue heather
on the hilltops, gray ice within the
shallow hidden heart I carry clutched to me,
and black, faded ecstasy on the stairs.

I can only feel the red though.

Lover Part II

The room was dark, like all of them were. He couldn’t remember the name of the hotel he was in. He never could.
There was no heat in the room, and she’d left the window slightly open from last night. She’d been lighting candles left and right, claiming it was romantic, so they’d had to leave the window open as to not asphyxiate.
She was dead to the world as he slowly slid out of bed. He headed toward the cheap shower that the hotel had tacked onto their rooms. The bathroom was small and designed with only one purpose. He turned on the water and shut the door behind him as he stepped in.
She was awake by the time he finished. He smiled the same smile he always used.
“You have to go?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
“That’s fine.” She rolled herself out and into alignment with the floor. She smiled. “It was good. I’ll see you again next week. Here’s your payment.”
He took the money she offered him, tucking it into his pants pocket before turning to get dressed.
“Wednesday again?” he asked.
“Make it Thursday. I’ve got a meeting on Wednesday.”
She stood up and walked to the shower, not bothering with clothes or any form of modesty. The door shut behind her, and he finished getting dressed.
Her purse lay on the ground near the door. He bent down and quietly opened her wallet, removing a small amount of cash. So small she wouldn’t notice.
Once the night was over, he would no longer be her lover, and she had to wait for next week.
He left her in the shower, like he always did. She knew better than to expect anything more.