Transitional Twenties

Here we be, young and awkward things.
Unsure of our bodies, unsure of ourselves,
trial and error--fail again, fail better.
Tripping and stumbling yet playing it off as a triumphant walk.

Second guessing, never knowing, always uncomfortable.
Itching in our own skin desperate for a cure
only brief moments of repose before the flair-ups start anew
and the price of youth marches on.

I am a damned fool

for once a sweet dream

For the most part I don't dream, and usually when I do its disturbing.

Last night for the first time in months I woke up from a dream, and to even more of a surprise it was a very happy dream. Here it goes:

lights up on me looking into a wall mounted mirror. i'm in a wedding dress and my hair is dreaded like angie's in 'gone in 60 seconds.' my mother is standing behind me helping me arrange my dreads and get the veil on. we are in the bride prep room of some church, just us two and i am unhappy.

none of my bridesmaids are present nor are any of my friends present in the congregation. i hate my dress and my hair is so not me. my mother is gently trying to point out what i'll be sacrificing in the name of security by marrying this man.

i'm aware of all the people filling the church, there is quiet the hum of jovial voices. all are sitting in the grooms side, not a single soul for the brides. this bothers me to no end so i'm complaining aloud to my mother about my lack of attendants. she then hands me my phone to show me the long list of texts i've recieved.

'sam, so sorry but we are just not able to make it--'

'what up pretty lady, hate to bail on your big day but--'

then one from him, a poem at that

'A kiss! A kiss! Always friends but sometimes a kiss!
Alas, for me no more, but--oh well!
Congratulations!'

that was it. that was all i needed. his simple text was the proof i required. i need to marry for love, so i call him

me: hello? hey!
boy: hhhhey.
m: i can't do this, i can't. i can't marry him. i can't. i won't.
b: ha...so...whada gonna do?
m: i want you. that is all.

b: but i can't offer what he can.
m: that's fine by me.
b: i don't have much.
m: i don't care.
b: huh, well, mmm. okay. what, uhm...what do you want me to do? *clears throat*
m: can you come here please? can you meet me?
b: now?
m: yes, now. i only want you.
b: well, that's--that's fine. ill be there--i'll be there.

i hang up, mom is all smiles and I exit the room. i walk for some time in an undefinable space so happy and hopeful then pause and wait for him to arrive; he does. sweaty and a little pink from exertion he hops off his bicycle, smiling at me. his face shows about 3 days of growth, his hair sans product and wearing a red with black stripes polo shirt and his loathsome work pants rolled up over the knees and work shoes. he is beautiful all the same.

m: hi.
b: heeeyy.
m: you came.
b: yup! sure did.
m: thank you.
b: no sweat.
m: come here, i want you.
b: but i'm all sweaty--
m: i don't care.
b: and i'm--
m: look i really don't care! you're here with me and that is all that matters. i want you just the way you are. so come here and hold me.
b: okay, you pass.

he walks towards me

m: i pass?
b: yeah you pass the test. i know how much you hate my work clothes and sweaty things, but you didn't throw a stink over, well my stink, so okay, you pass. it can be you and me.
m: REALLY?!?! it can, just you and me?
b: yeah, sure why not? *smiling*huh, huh, hey, you know? come here.

he takes me to him and we hug and hold each other. i'm over the moon. we stay in an embrace gazing into the light of each others eyes. all at once my friends appear, smiling and claping with words of congratulations.

'see samantha, this is right! we can support this. you two, you two fit. for your own good we had to boycott the marriage, but this is right. etc'

And from that I awoke at 8:07 am with a smile on my face.

Uninterupted Dreaming

how fitting that on the 1 year anniversary since we first kissed, while cleaning my room, I came across a post-it bearing these words:

Goodnight my love, goodnight
Beneath the starlight gleaming.
I wish you many nights of sweet
uninterrupted dreaming.

So kiss me love, goodnight
for though I may be leaving,
of you and I--may you and I--
forever more be dreaming

I wrote this during the height of my relationship with Christopher. I held a candle for him since I was 15, some 7 years later he told me he loved me. Then the truth came out and I learned just how well he played me. I loved him with a pure heart which he abused. Roughly a year since he reentered my life I'm nursing the wounds he left instead of sharing the love expressed above. I'll choose to remember him like this and not the coward he really is.

Goodbye my love, goodbye
may a guilty conscious keep you from pleasant dreaming

my words repel
yours attract


all i want to say is--


huh, looky there. i can't say it.
its cause i know you don't feel the same so i'm not going to put myself through it again.

I JUST FINISHED AND NOW I WANT TO DO IT AGAIN?!?!

that's me yelling at myself, not you.
frustration, name of the game.
at/with myself
and you, you fickle little bitch.
to hell with the saying, young male is just as if not more

but that's how i know. if this was how i wanted, you'd be in it whole heart. but you are not. there is my answer. the reason why i can not allow myself to say,

well you know