All The Parts

There are so many parts of us that should be seen to and kept

From the top of our heads to the tips of our toes with each aching breathe

The broad side of us against the narrow core of us

The breadth of us to the very shallow of us

All another piece that comes together to make the whole

From the memories we keep now and lose as we grow old

To the muscle that powers our moves

To the tissue that DNA provides and proves

So I must choose a keeper for my many parts

Is it possible to find just one to update so many charts

So one I choose to care for my body

With you thirst will be seen to whether pure or bawdy

Another I'll entrust with my mind to keep it young and fresh

Each day should be full of knowledge clean with wash and dress

So that leaves my heart for you to insure that it always beat

Fill my life with love that can be felt from head to feet

So that leaves just my soul that I can't seem to fit to a tutor

Perhaps that one is just for me to look after and succor

If there was just one keeper how idea would that be

Just one person to see to all the ends that make up me

It's a dream I can't fulfill, one that has no true match

So I'll try to see to the whole with one by one patch

But the thought always lingers that if there is but only one of me

And with all my parts gathered close to cause me to be

There must exist the other end that looks out with such disheart

Knowing that there must be one who can see to all the parts

From Perilous Flight
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Opened Doors

"Don't you remember you told me you loved me baby." 

She hummed softly to the melody as the song blazed through the room.  Always she kept the stereo just too loud.  When it was just too loud, it drowned out all else. Even thought.  "Said you'd be coming' . . . But this song, reminded her of everything.

Like everyone else, she had heard the stories about the groupies, the women who follow and chase bands and celebrities.  She hadn't been one of those women.  She stretched her back at an awkward angle and continued the task of washing dishes in the sink that was never big enough.  In the kitchen that left her wanting for more, in the house that seemed to never hold enough space to be comfortable.  She stayed because it was hers, and no one else's.

"Baby, baby, ohhh, baby, I love you."

The floral skirt she was wearing dusted the floor, leaving only a sliver of her naked foot barren before toying with the hard tile.  As she swayed to the music it danced with her, gilding her moves like an echo, ruffling the air trying to remain still around.  The black tank she wore was nearly threadbare from repeated washings.  One of those items of clothing she would wear till it fell from her form.  As most of her clothes were. 

The tears came quickly, as they always did, not unexpected, they never were unexpected.  Most days saw at least one outburst of misery from her soul as it cried out the unfair fate that was forcing her to be so very strong.

The heartbreak wasn't a normal one.  She didn't cry from bitterness of being abandoned.  She cried for having tasted just enough joy to make her long for it for the rest of her life. He hadn't lied, never made one false promise.  So the song actually didn't fit her situation.  But it made it all the worse in truth. He hadn't cared enough to tell her pretty lies.  So unimportant to what he desired in the grand scheme of things she had been that he hadn't bothered to tell her anything.  Not a hello, not a goodbye.  No baby this, baby that, one day soons, or when I come back. Not a don't wait for me, we end here, this was a mistake, or never agains.

For six days and seven nights he had filled her with all that he was.  For three of those nights, she had held onto herself, the fourth she pretended that she was still whole, on the fifth she had stopped lying, and the sixth and seventh opened up another door.

As she discovered the real problem with opened doors wasn't in getting them open.  That had been almost too easy.  It was the closing that proved to give the fit.  Silly waitress in a bar was all she had been.  A foolish girl that had no idea of who he was.  No man had ever made her  . . .feel.  That was who he had become.  Nothing more, nothing less. 

More than just touch, words, expressions, the color of his eyes, the length of his hair.  She knew where he was in the room at all times, as he did with her.  The melting promise of joy would hum through her when she knew he was near.  Damn that opened door.

"Long ago. . ."

She didn't count how much time had passed in years, they seemed insufficient when the number was tallied. Instead she felt his absence in moments.  As the sun slid to rest.  Heavy footsteps approaching. The feel of freshly washed sheets.  Morning dew falling from leaves onto her skin.  Phrases that matched his cadence. Catching musky scents in the air.  Accidental contact with a stranger.  Fresh strawberries against her lips.  And songs bemoaning loving an entertainer.

What he had left was possibility without hope.  She didn't wonder if he would come for her, never dared dream that he still even thought of her.  He ruled her waking thoughts and dreaming nights. Soon it became insanity to pretend that this wasn't the case. She knew that this door in her was wide open now and oh so hard to fill.  A few brave had tried, only to be told, "That damned door only seems to be the right size for one man."

". . . .I thought it was you, it was only the radio."

The dishes were done, the kitchen finally clean.  The baby was sound asleep and the song filled the space.  She turned and held up her arms as if holding onto a partner.  With great confidence she began to move slowly to the soft strings of the song playing. Gazing upward fondly she smiled, sweetly, softly beautifully.  "I love being in your arms", she whispered to the sound pulsing air around her.

From Perilous Flight
On Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Smashwords

Needless to Say I'm Having a Bad Day

I reached out my hand and met only air

I suppose it would've been nice

If someone had cared enough to at least slap it away

But no I met only air

I dream of my bed, so very tired from the day

But I see myself there alone and drag my feet to it

I reached out me hand and met only air

I didn't understand the nature of loneliness

I thought it was only felt by the weak

Those who let themselves be taken advantage of

I reached out my hand and met only air

Even a slap, there some strong emotion in hate

Indifference leaves nothing, not even a breath

Dispassion leaves less than nothing, not a trace

I reached out my hand and met only air

Why isn't there someone there

I pray, I share, I give and I care

And still I reach out and only touch air

How have I landed here in this place?

My only comfort are books

My only companion plans

I live to go to work, there are people there

And if I close my eyes and pretend just right

I can just convince myself

If I disappeared they would care

I reached out my hand and met only air

I don't know how to fix this

So far gone I can't back out

So far gone I don't even know how to anymore

I have this spot, this place, the tower that I view all from

Never truly understood and never truly appreciated

What can it do for me, whispers in the back of my head

How can I use it to make me feel good

Circles in my mind

Maybe if I jump, it will all end

No one will catch me, no one would dare

And if they did they'd only use me

Always only use me, for what they want

Never give back, never really see me

Just what they want from me

It's so stupid, it just wants to make you happy

Make it love you and it will do whatever you want

You never have to give back, you never have to care

Just pretend, it'll believe you, it always believes you

Maybe if I jump the voices will stop,

Maybe if I jump, they will let me fall

I'll die with the truth

If nothing else, I'll have the truth

Maybe if I jump. . .what reason is there not to

To soft to love, to tough to hate

Maybe if I jump. . . . there will be someone on the other end

Maybe if I jump, .. someone will see me.

Maybe if I jump .. . love will be on the other end

Maybe if I jump . . . it won't matter anymore

I reached out my hand and only met air

Time to accept

This is all that will ever be there

From Perilous Flight

On Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Smashwords