Friday, June 30, 2017

i'm a lot like you were (matt and stella)

after dinner, after computer time, as they settled down into bed, matt and stella like to read. it seems to be thie only thing that takes the hyper out of stella, and matt is more than happy to lie next to his sweet one.

one night, he noticed a frown on his dear one's face. (ok, ok, i'll stop with the cutesy labels. he does think she's sweet. and dear. and adorable. and . . oh, i said i would stop. sorry.) he leaned his head over, and slightly bumped hers. she bumped back, and looked over his shoulder.

"whatcha reading?" she whispered into his ear.

"robert benchley. you?"

"cosmo."

"oh." matt straightened up a bit. " it's cosmo night?"

"no. this is an old one."

"oh. ok. i thought it was too early in the month."

"you thought right."

they smiled at each other. cosmo night was . . .ok, do i even have to go into it? when you get a new cosmopolitan magazine, you have to share it with your partner, don't you? there's the test at the end, and the "would i look good in this?" and "smell this, would ya?" as well as the "are you flexible enough for that?"

stuff like that.

anyway . .

stella sighed.

"what?"

"nothing."

"ok."

matt warily went back to his book.

stella sighed again. most emphatically.

"ok. what?"

"noooooottthhhing."

she looked up. he stared at her with the "get on with it" look. so, she showed him the article she was reading. 'how to live to be a hundred' it read.

"i used to think i'd only live to twenty one. then maybe twenty five. but, now it seems like, with all the preservatives, and the steroids, and all that . . we can live for forever."

matt smiled. stella was animated, tossing her hair and flashing her eyes. she didn't speak with the correct grammar he always tried to use, but she had more emotion in her voice than he ever had, which to him was a hundred years better.

"would you want to live to be a hundred?" she asked.

"i didn't used to."

she caught on almost immediately.

"reeeeally?"

"yes. really." it was hard for him to keep a straight face.

"when did you start wanting to live to be a hundred?" she wheedled.

"i don't know." he looked away, smiling.

"yes you dooooo."

"no, i don't. really."

"yes you doooooo."

"no. i really don't."

"yes you . . ."

"stella."

"yes?"

"stop talking to the dogs."

"hey!" she shoved at him with her shoulder. "my voice doesn't go that high!" she composed herself, solemn face, sparkling eyes.

"is this better?" her inner bullfrog said.

"ew! now there's a dick kill!"

"too barry white?"

matt leaned over, and glared at her.

"most decidedly." he intoned.

she kissed him lightly on the lips, and went on.

"so . . .when did you want to live to be a hundred?" she asked, in her 'perfectly feminine' voice.

"when my life became more worthwhile." it was his turn to whisper in her ear. "when i met you."

"ohh, maaaaaaaaatttt . . ."

"ok. ok. don't get so puddly."

"yes sir."

"you'd better read up on ben gay. you'll be using it soon enough."

"ew. thanks for the visual."

matt leaned over again, and kissed her hair.

"i love you, dearie."

stella laughed in surprise.

"i love you too . . .you old codger."



Thursday, June 29, 2017

visions

she kept things
in words

sentences and
phrases

be captured things
in pictures

scenes and
stages

they met
in between

her describing
feelings he'd
never felt

he showing
places she'd
never seen

she wrote
furiously
in her notebook

trying to make
him see

but his eyes
were elsewhere

looking for that
next perfect
image

to still
and hold

for eternity

(see)



the crisis of remembering (matt and stella)

dear matt,

i was trying last night to remember you. really remember you. i can't.

i tried for how you looked. i know, i know. i could just look at the pictures i have. they don't help. they don't move. they float silently on my monitor, stiffly smiling, with dead eyes. paused. not free.

i went for how you sound. easy. i hear your voice every day. but, did you know that the phone makes your voice deeper? harder, in a way. sort of . . . untouchable.

i've given up feeling your arms.

can you do something for me? can you really, really *try* to get well? because i know when you do put your mind to something, then it happens. and ... you *do* want to see me again . . .

. . don't you?

i know. i know. i'm forever silly. you do miss me, as much as i miss you. but, after-a-while, it seems like no matter how much you try to assure me . . .i mean . . it's like the words get meaningless as we repeat them over and over again. but, i do love you. and i do miss you. and i do want to be with you again . . 

. . . and i don't know how to tell you in a new, beautiful way that will heal everything.

please remember me. i can never forget you.


love,

stella

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

you are missed

you are noticed
you are loved

you are missed

even though
i know
you're having fun

even though
i know
you'll come back
soon

your presence
(so constant and calm)
is not felt

your voice
(so caring and kind)
is not heard

it's quiet in the corner
where you stood

and lived
and loved
and laughed

come back
and be with us
again

you are missed

(soon)



Thursday, June 22, 2017

for the worst

it started sketchy
then you filled in
the blanks

vowing your love
as long as i
told you everything

and i told you
everything

baring my soul
night after night

you took from me
my problems
and gave to me
your solutions

lecturing me
over and over
about what i
must do

for the best

but somewhere
along the line
your words took
a turn

for the worse

and you started
magnifying the
darknesses that
i tried to hide

telling me
over and over
what i must do

to end it all

and i followed
your steps
to the letter

spelling out
my life before
my eyes

wishing and hoping
it didn't have to be
this way

but it was better
this way

you told me so
and i believed

(the end)







Saturday, June 17, 2017

too soon?

you have
that shine in your eyes

like she did
like she did

when you look at me
sidewise

like she did 
like she did

you laugh
in that familiar tune

like she did
like she did

when you hear me holler
at the moon

...but is it too soon?

shouldn't i be immune
to love right now?

shouldn't i be living
in a tomb right now

with her?

sometimes all i
see is the her in you

it makes me want to run

like i did
like i did

when she first walked my way

(stay)







Thursday, June 15, 2017

the limit

what happens 
when even just a little word

makes it all bad?

what does it mean
when just a movement

leads to sadness?

what was once 
excitement
has turned into
a chore

and what once 
was forever
is now 
nevermore

it all changed
with goodbye
didn't it?

that was the limit
to happiness

and uncertainty

(flee)



Sunday, June 11, 2017

the end

the end
can be like the beginning

sudden and
spontaneous

full of the spirit
that you once loved
(but grew to hate)

the parting
can be unnoticed

subtle and sustaining

a disintegration
that sneaks up on you
in your lonely night

the silence
can be like thunder

rumbling and
rebellious

reminding you
how close you
once were

to the everything
that was
before he whispered

goodbye

prompt: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2017-april-pad-challenge-day-30



Saturday, June 10, 2017

too much

i can't flex
without hitting my head
on the ceiling

i'm too big
for this world

i can't think
without causing a commotion
in the room

i'm too bad
for this world

i can't tell you 
how i feel

show you 
what i see

let you in
on what becomes me

without tearing 
myself apart
in agony

i'm too real 
for you

i'm too dead
for me

(go)



in the dark

was ready
to let go

was ready
to break free
from me

for you

was hoping
i could bare my soul

however old

in hopes to
feel again

foolish heart
led me astray

to what i thought
was you

beckoning me on

now i sit
in darkness
again

a novelty
i'm used to

and yet
if you lit up
again

i'd follow

who knows
why

no butterfly
ever lasted
so long

so long
so long

(close)