©August 4, 1999 by Vanessa de Vera
I called out to you in the dark, frantically grasping the air around
me, clutching my chest- so sick of the nights of perpetual unrest. By
mistake I had thought that youíd always be there, waiting for me to
wake up so youíd kiss my forehead and pull me close- but I stare at
silence- a state of walking comatose.
I await the day when the chiding breeze of your existence whispers loud
enough to awaken my dwindling spirit, which dwells inside my idle mind.
Unable to find or grasp my own destiny or fate all the same: when life
surrounding me doesnít freeze as you pass- or when your trail of
deception doesnít leave a charred path.
Itís a paradoxical paradise because Iím liberated yet paralyzed in your
beckoning eyes, while Iím drowning in the vats of your own liquid lies-
which have dealt a heartbreaking surprise, as I got burned on the edge
of your falling sunrise. From what I can surmise, Iím at fault for I
believe- that I need you in my life to make me seem real- and itís hard
to conceive the fathomless dimensions of emotion I feel when I think of
you- wanting to pull you in me, keeping you close, yet it hurts- like
the sting of the thorn on a beautiful rose.
So grounded by the foundation of our friendship, I chose to be baffled
and distracted by the promise of more- but these lovely mirages, you
retracted, stabbing me at my core. And now Iím lonely and churning,
throbbing within this bell jarís stomach, while above me you towered-
belching your pleasure as hope was quickly devoured.
Going insane when I try to analyze reasons for which you belittle my
words and ideas, how you play on my fear of rejection, disconcerted in
the fact that I seek protection- in the same person that had caused me
to feel unsafe in the first- but within your sweltering anger, Iím
dying of thirst.
Making circles in your hot sands of mistrust (my feet weighing), Iím
sinking into your sadistic lust (my head violently swaying). Iím
calling out to you, shaking, cursing the air all around meÖ
Ögasping for breath as my lips turn dry, trying to calm my heaving
chest- I think of how much I truly detest, this life, my life, of
perpetual unrestÖ this perpetual unrest.
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